Everything Is Governed
by MaybeThere'sHope
Summary: We can't always just do what we want. Every choice has implications. Simon must learn a little something about Downworld politics, and he's going into the past of a certain warlock to do it. Can't poss summarize this short. Look inside for better info.
1. A Meeting

**Yay! I'm starting something new! Not that I didn't loooovvvee doing Connected (dear to my heart forever), but I'm ready for something different. Yet, I'm not quite ready to move on from Mortal Instruments and my favorite literary character EVER, my beloved Magnus. This will be a Malec fic, but it will be a different kind of Malec fic entirely. I haven't really seen anything like this yet, but then again I haven't read the entire TMI archive. But anyways…I intend for this to kind of jump back and forth in time (you'll see soon what I mean by that) and show some of how Magnus' life has been shaped, why he makes the decisions he does, and why he cherishes Alec so much. **

**This will be told primarily through the eyes of our new vampire, Simon. There will most likely be quite the fair share of Alec and Magnus POV, sprinkled here and there, but I kind of like the idea of a third party witnessing this (kinda like it's us right there with him).**

**PS. Cassandra Clare owns these characters (except for the ones I think up). Thank you miss Clare!**

**Sooo, now for a little prologue/setup of sorts:**

Simon was so incredibly frustrated with it all. He really wished he could just be a normal guy again. He didn't mind the fact of being a vampire so much. He actually enjoyed the newfound handsomeness, the lack of need for glasses, the speed, and the heightened senses. It was the fact that he was an anomaly. He could walk in daylight, which was extremely rare, he was learning, and this meant that there was a very high price on his head these days.

Not everyone wanted him dead. Well, dead_er_. Just those, like Raphael, who considered him an abomination. That was most of the vampire population. They were an old fashioned lot, and anything new and different really rocked their world off its hinges. The Nephilim, on the other hand, wanted to study him and find out just what gave him this new power because, after all, he didn't start out being able to walk in sunlight. The Fey suspected it could have something to do with Valentine's evil experiments in his younger days (which was pretty much the truth of it, though in a roundabout way), so they wished to study him as well (though he was pretty sure the Shadowhunters would be infinitely nicer to him in the long run). The werewolves were always looking for an effective bargaining chip in their constant rivalry with the vampires, and having their hands on the resident Daylighter would prove advantageous, so they wanted him as leverage.

Simon, on the other hand, just wanted to be normal, which was the furthest thing from reality. He literally could not understand all this uproar over him and his condition. It so happened that, despite all this attention on him, he could walk the streets of New York with no worries about being grabbed into an alley or thrown in an inconspicuous black sedan. This was because Downworlders and Shadowhunters spent more time fighting over him and what his existence meant than trying to actually get a hold of him. This left him free to attend school and band practice, but he still wondered what the hell was so damn important about all this.

He had gone to Manhattan's head vampire (who was pretty nice, as far as vampires go) because he had come to despise Raphael, and rumor had it that Camille was back and she couldn't wait to get her hands on Simon just like everyone else. Louis had told him he just didn't understand the politics of the whole thing. He had then proceeded into a lengthy tale that involved a lot of Lords, Ladies, and Laws, and a lot of other words, ways, and customs that Simon didn't understand. Louis had sensed this and figured it best to have someone actually teach Simon the realities of Downworld politics in a tangible way.

Louis had given the young vampire an address and instructions to meet someone there and that this someone would give him the answers he needed to make sense of his current mess. Simon was to meet this someone in Central Park in 20 minutes (10 minutes before the sun was due to come up). He made his way to the appointed destination and tried to appear inconspicuous to the morning commuters and joggers. He was thirsty but it didn't bother him. The fog, however, was a little annoying.

At the appropriate time on the dot, Simon caught sight of a figure watching him through the mist.

**Ok, please please review. Tell me if you are intrigued. I know you probably aren't yet if you are here for Magnus. He is coming I swear! This just takes a bit of setup (I needed a reason to tell the story the way I'm telling it, so I figured Simon needed to learn a thing or two about why you can't just do what you want, you have to take into account how it will affect everyone else). Please keep on reading! I would really like to know if people might enjoy this. Hopefully all of you, my loyal readers/reviewers, will stick by me. **

**BTW, there is another long A/N at the beginning of the next chap, and you really should read it to know/understand the story I'll be telling (as much as I can reveal now). So please don't neglect it, or you will probably be like 'what the hell is going on?'**

**Also, this story is rated M for a few lemons and lots of limes. I won't get ridiculously naughty (like my other fics…*blush*), but there will be plenty of sexual references in this fic. **


	2. Lavender Heat Under the Tongue

**Ok, just to clarify, I've taken quite a bit of poetic/literary license with Camille here. I don't remember if she is described physically in TMI, but I'm sure she is in ID. As this story will most likely go past the release date of Clockwork Angel, I just wanted to let you guys know I'm just gonna stick with my description since I've already started, even though it may be different. This idea kind of formed itself almost completely in one night when I finished up the Connected epilogue, and I wanted to get it out before the entire plot was undermined by CA. This is just an idea that brewed in my head that was inspired by much Magnus worshipping, and lots of True Blood DVDs. It started to run together in my head. The result was this. Downworld politics and their implications for our favorite warlock, told through the eyes of a Daylighter trying to learn the Downworld ropes.**

**Cassandra Clare owns all characters except for Vanessa and her kind. Those are totally my creation out of my weird little mind. **

Simon glanced through the fog and made out the curvy figure of a woman, a slight bit shorter than him. She stood silently still, staring him down. He began to make his way toward her. She stood her ground, even though he knew instinctively his newly adopted gait was clearly something more than human. He hadn't quite learned how to humanize his body yet; he'd only just recently gotten used to constantly dreaming of blood. Little things would come in time.

He reached her general vicinity and took a moment to really look at her. She was about two inches shorter than he was, with short, blunt cut brunette locks that barely reached her shoulders. She had eyes so green they looked like what he might imagine the Caribbean would look like at twilight. Her features were soft, at odds with her intense stare. Her most intriguing attribute, however, was a small aurora-like jewel decorating the outer corner of each eye. They looked bezel set into her skin, like they had grown there of their own accord. Perhaps they had. All in all, she looked about his age, but he could never tell these days. She could be a thousand years old for all he knew.

"Are you the one they told me about? The one who will give me answers?" He asked stupidly. Of course this must be her; she looked like someone who radiated unwanted wisdom.

"You could say that. I'm here to be a teacher of sorts." Her voice startled him, because it didn't sound at all like he'd imagined. He'd thought it might be slight, meek, a reflection of her soft features. Instead, it was harsh and snide, its sarcasm reminding him of a certain blond Shadowhunter. This girl was definitely no Nephilim, though.

"Ok. What, exactly, am I in need of learning?" He tried to return her tone, but came up short. Even with fangs, he figured out quickly that he couldn't intimidate this girl.

She gave a very unladylike snort, possibly at his attempt at matching her snarkiness. "Politics," was all she said.

"What does that have to do with everyone wanting my head on a silver platter? I figured you were going to tell me I'm actually not one of a kind, and that I can find another Daylighter who isn't public enemy number one who could give me some pointers about staying under the radar. But now that's not sounding like the case."

"You have _obviously_ been recently integrated into Downworld. Am I right?" Even though she was shorter, she was clearly looking down her nose at him.

"I don't think that matters."

"You don't think, apparently," was her remark. He simply stood his ground and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for a more thorough explanation. "You want to know why Raphael wants you dead. Why he refuses to tell Camille about you. Why most of Downworld hates that you consort with Nephilim. And, perhaps most of all, why it should all even matter to you."

"You're getting warm," Simon quipped.

"I'm never warm, Daylighter. I'm as cold as they come, and it would behoove you to remember that."

"What race are you, anyway? Are you a Downworlder?"

"No. I only deal with Downworld because at least most of them are humble enough to explicitly ask for my help in matters like these. I do _not_ deal with Nephilim for the opposite reason." It didn't escape Simon that she hadn't fully answered his question, but he chose to let it go for now. She seemed to notice what he was thinking, only offering, "My name is Vanessa. That's all you need to know."

"So how do you plan on 'teaching' me about politics? Do I have to study or something?"

"No. It should be rather easy for you. All you have to do is sit back and watch. Blend with your surroundings, and you'll be fine." The first hint of a smile began playing at the edges of her lips. She produced a small amount of lavender colored powder in her small hand. She held it out to him. "Place this under your tongue, and take my hand. Don't panic if you feel nauseous at first."

He held out his hand and she turned the substance over into it. He licked his index finger and dipped it into the powder, bringing it up to his mouth and applying the foreign substance as he'd been instructed. Almost immediately he began swaying on his feet. He took her outstretched hand to steady himself, and then he felt like he was falling.

The feeling of weightlessness was not at all pleasant, and he began to understand her previous warning about nausea. He tried to hold the contents of his stomach together (which was not much, since he hadn't been to the butcher shop in about a week). Then, all of a sudden, after an unaccountable amount of time, he felt completely stable again. His eyes had slipped shut during the awful falling feeling, and when he opened them he discovered he was steady on his feet with Vanessa standing next to him, still gripping his hand.

When he turned to face her, he was momentarily startled. She looked like a cartoon girl whose dress had puffed up as she fell through the air. Her entire skirt was ballooned out around her. It was made of a luxurious looking green material, soft and shiny looking. Simon fought the urge to reach out and run his hand over the fabric gathered at her hip. The lavish green gown covered her from the neck (where there was also a gathering of white lace up to her chin) to the floor, and all the way down both arms to the wrists, where her delicate hands peeked out from behind more lace. The color brought her eyes into vivid focus.

"Stop staring, Simon. It's incredibly rude." She was peering down her nose again.

He raised his hand to point at her and was about to make a snide remark when he felt the rustle of fabric in his own clothes. He looked down in astonishment. He was clad in a very fitted mauve brocade jacket that was open across the chest to reveal a gold vest underneath. His choking collar was made of the stiffest linen (that could be because there was a very sturdy, yet very thin piece of wood running through it to hold the shape). He was most appalled by his pants, though. Or the lack thereof. They were stark white and very tight. He felt a little self conscious, to tell the truth. The worst part were the white stockings protruding from the pants that stopped at his knees, stockings that continued down the length of his calves and were tucked into the most hideous black shoes he'd ever seen.

"What in the _hell_ is going on?" he whispered harshly under his breath. "Where the fuck are we?"

"Language, Master Lewis. You can't be heard speaking to a lady like that. You will fail the blending in part I told you about." Where he felt completely out of his element in this horrendous getup, she looked completely at ease, as if this were her daily attire and not the eccentric punky black ripped up jeans he had met her in.

She continued, her voice breaking through the haze of his thoughts. "We are in London, in the Inquisitor's Great Hall. This is a gathering place for Nephilim and Downworlders to discuss the issues of the day in a public setting. Not so much different from the royal court."

"So, is this like a costume ball or something?" Simon asked, noticing the other gathered figures dressed in loosely the same attire as he and Vanessa were.

"No. This is pretty much standard dress for 1798," she said with little inflection.

_WHAT?_ He tried to wrap his head around that statement. "So, is this an illusion, or are we, like, really all the way back in 1798?"

"Simon, you are going to have to lose that valley girl slang right now if you plan on fitting in here," she said with a royal air. She had this down smooth. He, on the other hand, was already mentally missing D&D. And his cell phone. And cars with loud music. The general sounds of life in the city.

"I want to go home," he said. Even to him it sounded childish, but it was the truth.

"Not until you've learned what you need to learn. I plan on schooling you in the joys and angst of Downworld politics in a way that you can relate to, albeit distantly."

He was starting to resign himself to staying until his mission was fulfilled. It could be like any other role playing computer game. Except instead of battling rogue warriors he'd be attending balls and spending his lunchtime with tea and crumpets. "I guess this will be doable. For a short time, at least." He attempted to adopt Vanessa's air of respectability. He straightened his back and heightened his chin. He held out his arm to her like he'd seen Leo do to Kate Winslet in Titanic. She only snickered a bit, but took his elbow.

They began their blending in scheme, milling about the room aimlessly, nodding at random people who met their faces. No one seemed to actually lock eyes with them. Vanessa noticed Simon trying.

"They don't like to look too close. You never know if who you're looking at is going to be around come morning, so it's best not to really get to know anyone at all."

"So who do they all think we are, anyway? I mean, obviously I'm not Simon the gamer slash drummer from Brooklyn."

"Would you keep it down, Daylighter?" she whispered harshly with a smile plastered on her face as another young couple waltzed by them, tipping their heads respectfully. "You are Master Simon Lewis, Lord of Florence Manor in Oxford since your father passed of influenza. I am your acquaintance Madame Minaldi of Kent. You are eighteen and I am sixteen. We are engaged to be married in the spring."

Simon silently took this in. Could he even pass for eighteen? He always looked a year or two younger than his real age, but maybe things were different long ago (correction: "now"). "Do they know I'm a vampire?" he asked.

"Of course they do. These are Downworlders, too. And Nephilim. They can spot your kind a mile away."

"Do they know what you are?" he was trying to get her to tell him, because he was still curious.

"I'm harder to pick out of a crowd. But most Downworlders know my kind, yes."

"Your kind being…?"

She sighed. "I'm what they call an Endurer. I am immortal for immortality's sake. Over the years, I've developed my own powers. We are all different. I have the ability to travel through time. Others have different powers. I don't know any others, personally, so don't ask. Any other questions?"

Simon pondered for a moment. "Aren't we messing with history by being here? I mean, aren't we risking changing something small and making present day turn out wildly different?"

"You can't change history. That's why its _history_. We are simply adding ourselves in as bystanders. The others here know us as random acquaintances they met last year. We are of no consequence."

"But what if we run into someone we know?" As crazy as this sounded, Simon had recently been coming to terms with all the truths of immortality.

"We will never talk directly to anyone who lives in our present time. We will speak absently with other Downworlders. We are free to associate with Nephilim, as much as they will associate with us, because they will obviously be dead by the time we get back to our present. Therefore, we remain on the periphery. We are here to observe."

"Are we here to observe anything in particular? Or are we here just in case something important happens?" Simon wanted to get this show on the road so he could just go home.

"Nothing I do is ever left to chance. We are here for a very specific purpose. To observe the unfolding of a life you may believe somewhat familiar to you, though you know next to nothing about it in reality." They were now entering another room. This room was filled with beautiful young couples waltzing away to music emanating from a small band of Fey in the opposite corner of the room. The inhabitants of this room were all manner of Downworlders and Shadowhunters. "I do believe I spot our subject now," she whispered as she pulled him through the sidelines of waiting dancers.

"How am I supposed to tell anyone apart in this crowd?" he asked with a bit of exasperation. She didn't answer, but simply pointed to a dimly lit corner of the room. His eyes came to rest on their intended target: a beautiful woman, no less than 5'10" with brunette hair that would have nearly reached the floor, had it been straight. It cascaded in tight ringlets down to her hips. The deep crimson of her dress accentuated her extremely pale skin. He didn't need to see the glint of her fangs in the candlelight to know she was of his kind.

She would have certainly towered over every single being in the room, except for the man that loomed over her. He was nearly 6'4" at least. His back was turned to them as he faced the woman, whose back was pressed into the corner. His hand was placed on the wall next to her face and he was leaning in close to her, speaking in a heated manner. Even though he had assumed the dominant position, she was most certainly the one in control of the conversation. Her hand was firmly grasping his slim hip, her gorgeous face turned up to his in a mocking expression.

He sported a very expensive looking deep purple coat in the same brocade style as the one Simon wore. It seemed to set off rather than hide his slicked back hair, which was the deepest jet black.

At that moment, the woman's hand gripped the man's hip tighter and pulled him forcefully into a deep kiss, which he returned. His hand moved to twine in her hair and he pressed her further into the wall behind her.

"Shall we listen in?" Vanessa said before touching her fingertip to Simon's ear. The racket of the music and dancing drowned out and he clearly heard the somewhat heavy breathing of the couple in the corner.

"Uh, that seems a little intrusive…" Simon said reluctantly.

"Just listen, vampire." He listened.

The man pulled away abruptly from the woman, who still had a devious smirk plastered on her face. The man spoke in a harsh whisper.

"When will you get it through your ugly head that I do _not_ love you? I never have and I don't think I could ever stoop so low, now matter how long I live."

"You didn't seem to be averse to it just now. Or were those someone else's lips nibbling at my own? Someone else's hands pulling me close?" She answered playfully, with a spark of menace to her tone. It was mocking.

"I have to be civil when you ambush me in public, Camille. We are not in my penthouse. This is the Inquisitor's Hall and we must act accordingly. Were we alone, I would have let you know my true feelings, which you know are disgust."

"I highly doubt that. And it's Ardenian's penthouse, not yours. You have not assumed his responsibilities just yet, which means you own nothing at the moment." Even though it was not directed at him, Simon could barely help the urge to slap the smirk off her face. He felt for this man.

As it was, the hand that was still placed on the wall beside Camille's face emitted a single angry blue spark as the man jerked away from her. "You will not mess this up for me, Camille. I have been groomed for this position for a long while. I refuse to give it up for an ill-fated romantic whim of yours."

"Oh you won't? What if I were to inform the Council of Lilith of your dealings with Inquisitor Ravenscar? I don't imagine they would be too thrilled. I don't imagine your precious Ardenian would be either. You'd practically be ordered from his sight. You would be free to do as you please, sweetheart. Free to marry whomever you chose, no matter what region she is a ranking official of."

"I will not be manipulated, especially not by a common vampire whore who fancies herself a revolutionary simply because she got a mockery of a coven dropped in her lap," the man retorted harshly, although Simon could hear the hint of uneasiness in his whispers. Both voices had a very faint English accent, nowhere close to the rest of the people in the room.

"We will just see about that, handsome. Ta." And with that, she flourished away into the crowd, joining a group of women who looked about her age, whatever that was, leaving the man unmoving as if she was still standing in front of him.

One of the women Camille stood with gasped when she came over. "Is that the new beau we've been hearing about? I heard tell of his looks and charm and how you managed to hold on to him for a whole year, but I never believed it a feat till now. He is absolutely delicious, Camille," the blond vampire woman gushed, looking the tall, thin yet imposing man up and down from the back. He stood unmoving.

"Yes, that's him ladies. And he's not just a beau. I'll have you know, you are the first to hear this groundbreaking news. He has just asked for my hand," Camille breathed delightedly to the group as the women erupted in swoons.

At overhearing this, the man grabbed a goblet of glowing green liquid from a nearby tray and tossed it back, placing the glass back down forcefully before the waiter had time to turn away. He straightened his shoulders and turned back to face the rest of the room. Simon gasped as he caught the gleam of very familiar cat eyes in the candlelight.

**Ohhh yes! There's our boy! Back in the day, yes? Well we will see what all this asking for Camille's hand nonsense is about, and why he's pissed in the next few chaps. Please stick around. And REVIEW! Thank you! **


	3. Her Boyfriend Says She's a Mess

**K here's another chap. This is one of those ones that will jump back and forth in time. I'll try to be clear on where we are, but just as a general rule, when its Alec and Magnus its present day, when its Vanessa and Simon its waaayy back in 1798. **

**Cassandra Clare owns everything except those random characters you've never heard of before. **

_**Clary:**_ Have u talked 2 Simon

_**Alec:**_ No…y would I have talked 2 Simon

_**Clary:**_ BC I've texted him 5 times n he hasn't answered me

_**Alec:**_ That still doesn't explain y ur asking me

_**Clary:**_ Well I've already tried every1 else

_**Alec:**_ O…well I'm sry…I guess I'll text if I c him?

_**Clary:**_ Thnx…sry I'm just worried

Alec was lounging on the sofa in his and Magnus' apartment eating a bowl of Lucky Charms. When he put his phone down he had the distinct feeling someone was looking over his shoulder from behind the couch.

"What did she want?" Magnus asked.

"To know if I had talked to the vampire, of all people."

"But why? Why would she possibly ask you about someone you can barely stand?" Magnus inquired thoughtfully as he made his way around to sit next to his boyfriend.

"Well, she said she already tried everyone else and no one has talked to him. She's just worried I think. You know Clary. She freaks easily, even though he's not a mundane anymore," Alec remarked distractedly, getting back to devouring his marshmallow rainbows.

"Never assume that a woman is 'just' anything. They always have some kind of motive for every move they make," Magnus said gravely.

Alec looked up with an amused expression. "Uh, I think you're a little paranoid, there. It's just Clary," he chuckled.

"Never trust a female, Alec. Maybe your mother, or Isabelle…no probably not even her."

"Ok. You obviously have serious issues with the fairer sex. Not that I'm complaining or anything," Alec said jokingly.

"I've just known my fair share of psycho girlfr—er girls. They can be vicious when they want something." Magnus shuddered while Alec just raised an eyebrow in his direction, then went back to his cereal. Magnus breathed a sigh of relief. They were close, but they hadn't verbosely discussed the warlock's past. And consequentially his past with women.

He was by no means gay _because_ he distrusted women. He had figured out he liked boys a lot better by accident somewhere during the early 1900s. He discovered the spark he had been missing with women. He had never really been very turned on with a girl, even though he had been with his fair share of beautiful women, gorgeous by any standards. He was a sought-after bachelor, back in his days as a society rake. He was something of a cad during the early part of the 18th century. Then a certain vampire (who was possibly the origin of the word vamp) fell hard for him and it all went downhill from there.

He was yanked out of his morbid thoughts by soft lips nipping at his jawline. He turned his head and captured Alec's mouth in his, eliciting a soft moan from the boy. God, he loved this boy. It was so easy. So honest. Yes, they had had their rough patches, when Alec was hiding him from his parents, but to tell the truth that was entirely understandable. He was afraid of losing his status as a Shadowhunter. But now, it was almost too good to be true. Alec was slowly coming out of his shell and Magnus was there to witness and experience it all.

Alec pulled away gently, ending the kiss. "Sorry, you seemed so lost in your head there for a minute I had to think quick for a way to get your attention," he said amusedly.

"For the record, that particular tactic works _every_ time, lover," Magnus returned, placing one last chaste kiss on the Shadowhunter's lips. "By the way, did you have any plans for the immediate future? Say, the next couple of hours?"

"I don't think so. Why?" Alec asked curiously.

"I was thinking a nice, leisurely stroll in the midmorning sun, ending with a stop at my favorite ice cream shop for a heaping triple scoop of chocolate and vanilla swirl?" Magnus batted his glittery eyelids for ultimate effect. He could practically see Alec melt.

"Of course. Anything to see you smile like that," the Nephilim boy replied.

They were out the door in less than 20 minutes, walking hand in hand through the streets of Brooklyn. It was effortless, being with Alec. They didn't really pay attention to where they were going; they just kept walking and looking more into each other's eyes than at the path.

"Huh," Alec chuckled, "I guess my cellular memory kicked in. The Institute's right around the corner."

Magnus instinctively slowed his pace. He hadn't noticed they'd entered Manhattan. Magnus didn't have any aversion to the Institute. He'd visited on many an occasion, but always on business (like healing Alec, for example). For seeing Alec on pleasure, the Shadowhunter usually made the trek to Brooklyn (and now he had moved there), so Magnus hadn't really had reason to set foot in Brooklyn's neighboring region for quite some time. It always made him uneasy, for good reason, since he was explicitly sure he was _not_ wanted here. As long as he didn't come into contact with certain parties, everything would be fine.

As if in answer to that thought, his roaming eyes caught the sight of a tall figure dressed in a grey wool coat that probably cost well over $1000.00 easy. With growing nausea his eyes crept up to the head of thick shoulder length blonde hair, a style left over from the days of Vikings. He took in the luxury leather gloves and cashmere scarf that hid the vivid blue scales that Magnus knew danced over the skin underneath. The man had a regal air about him, brought on from centuries of pampering with the best money could buy.

This was the only being alive who could literally intimidate Magnus to the point where he would bow involuntarily in immense respect, no matter how much disgust the other man radiated when he looked down upon him.

He was standing on a nearby corner, with his back turned. A sleek electric blue Jaguar pulled up in front him and he climbed inside, hidden instantly by tinted windows. Magnus shut his eyes for a moment, and when he looked again the car was gone. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Magnus, _Magnus_!" Alec was yanking on the sleeve of his purple leather coat trying to get his attention. He looked into the crystal blue of eyes that he knew would always love him.

"Yes, dear?" He tried to sound steady, even though his heart was pounding.

"Geez, what is with you today?" Alec asked laughing lightly. "You are spacing out like I've never seen."

"We should probably be getting back to the apartment," Magnus said too quickly.

Alec looked puzzled. "What about ice cream?" He said it with such a cute childish pouty face that Magnus was completely melted and beamed the biggest smile he had all day.

"We'll stop on the way and bring it home, ok?" He felt like he was appeasing a small child.

"Ok. That sounds good," Alec replied. He didn't let on that he knew something was definitely bothering Magnus, and he very badly wanted to know what. He had been staring at a street corner for over five minutes, completely oblivious to Alec calling his name. But Alec respected Magnus' privacy and knew that if he wanted it known, his boyfriend would tell him what was on his mind.

They turned around and worked their way back toward their small, over-furnished, expensively decorated Brooklyn flat, walking the last few blocks with a cone each of chocolate-vanilla swirl.

Simon watched as Magnus made his way through the crowd, which had now come back into Simon's ears. He barely recognized the warlock. His face was devoid of make-up, his jet black hair smoothly slicked back with pomade. "He looks so…so…_human_. It's bizarre," Simon replied, trying not to gape as Magnus bristled past them with an air that was not familiar at all. His demeanor was unmistakably that of someone privileged, pampered, and used to getting the world handed to them on a silver platter. There was nothing of the flamboyantly gay Sonic the Hedgehog covered in glitter that Simon was used to.

Simon knew Magnus had expensive taste, but he figured that's because he happened to be a gay man who was obsessed with fashion and therefore, expensive clothing, which spilled over to expensive furnishings and the like. He had never thought of Magnus as the stuck-up, silver spoon type, but that's what was there in front of him. A spoiled boy who was used to being center of attention with his handsomeness and his charm.

Simon watched in astonishment as Magnus made his way through the room, constantly being secretly caressed here and there by the most beautiful women in the room, even those with escorts on their arms. Magnus seemed to welcome it, and smiled a devious, _Jace_-like smile at each of them as if he could bed whichever one he chose and leave them in the morning completely satisfied for having had just one night with him.

This is what bothered Simon the most. It was so _incredibly_ unnerving to see Magnus being hit on by women and actually returning the affection. He tried hard to picture the Magnus he knew with a beautiful girl on his arm, but all he kept getting were images of Isabelle prancing along next to him, but when the image focused completely he actually saw Alec with pigtails and a schoolgirl outfit. He nearly hurled.

"Will you get a hold of yourself, vampire? Dear Lord you are easily rattled. Yes, Magnus _is_ gay, but no, he doesn't know it yet. He thinks being with women is as good as it gets, and it isn't good for him at all. But this is only almost the 19th century. Being with a man hasn't crossed his mind, especially while he's living it up as Downworld's most eligible bachelor," Vanessa retorted. Simon thought this over.

"Why would Magnus be so special? Why do all the women want him? I mean, I'll admit he's good-looking and apparently filthy rich, but so are most of the other people here."

"I'll let him tell you himself," Vanessa replied with a smile.

Simon was confused. "I thought you said we couldn't be seen by those who live in our present time. Magnus definitely knows who I am…or…_will_ know, when I'm born over 200 years from now." This was so disorienting.

"I didn't say we were going to be seen by him. Close your eyes." When he did, she ran her fingertips over each of his eyelids. He opened them, expecting to see something different, but he saw the same room as before, the same people, the same bizarre Magnus working the female crowd.

"I don't get it."

"Hang on. You might get sick again, and you _better_ not hurl on my dress," she replied as she took firm hold of his hand. She looked him over one last time to make sure he was ready, and then yanked violently on his arm. Once again, nausea overtook him as he watched the scene in front of him spin. It was the same feeling he usually got if he watched the spinning wheel too closely on The Price is Right. The sensation was not unlike what he might feel if he _were_ the wheel.

Slowly, his surroundings became clearer and the room came to a gentle halt. Simon shook his head. They were in a posh hotel room wallpapered with a raised damask pattern. The furnishings looked ridiculously expensive, like something that belonged in the palace at Versailles. For all he knew, some of the pieces had come from there. Above their heads was an enormous crystal chandelier that glittered in the dimly candlelit room.

He took in the rest of his surroundings, including the two other people in the room, both a little less than half clothed, who had taken no notice of their arrival or their presence in the room. He looked over at Vanessa questioningly.

"When I touched your eyes before, that was a sort of spell, if you will. They can't see us. Like a glamour, except it works on Downworlders," she said satisfactorily.

"Ok, I feel really uncomfortable right now. They were obviously getting it on, or about to get it on, or whatever. And as unsettling as it is to imagine Alec and Magnus together, its even more unsettling to imagine Magnus in bed with a woman. It's just too weird."

"Well, they are done 'getting it on'. I brought you here so you could hear a little more about their situation, since they argue about it a lot. This is two days after the party we were just at." Vanessa gestured for him to be quiet and listen.

"It will never work. It's not possible. Not only do I despise you, but no one would condone it. Especially not the paranoid Nephilim," Magnus fumed.

"Well of course it won't work as it is. And yes, you do love me. You just won't let yourself feel what you want to feel. Admit it, you enjoy making love to me. It obviously does _something_ for you," she teased, gesturing with her eyes to his pants that barely hung on his hips, only slightly covering the bulge hidden there.

"Actually, I get aroused at the thought of tattooing crosses all over your body and watching you burn slowly and painfully," Magnus said without feeling and without looking at Camille. Simon flinched a little at the image his words induced, but pushed it away and continued to listen.

"Anyway, as I said, it would be very frowned upon if things stayed the way they are."

"Things _are_ going to stay the way they are. As _I_ said, I will not let you ruin a century and a half of training for some crush you claim to have on me. If you want money, name your price, you may have it. Otherwise, leave me alone."

"Oh, Bane, dear. You couldn't buy me off. For one thing, your money is not yours. It belongs to your master. And second of all, it is not some crush. I love you just as you love me," she said with blind conviction. He snorted, then finally turned to face her for the first time since the conversation started.

"Forget it, Camille. We will never be married. Forget about the contradiction on the premise of love. I am Ardenian's apprentice. I _will_ succeed him. I have been trained vigorously for one hundred and fifty-eight years. He has graciously turned me into the second most powerful warlock in the world, second only to him," Magnus said with an air of pride. Simon had never heard him seriously brag on himself before.

"Ah. And what did your precious master, the High Warlock of Manhattan, say when you immediately portaled here on hearing the gorgeous headmistress of Brooklyn's vampire clan was present at the gathering the other night, hm?" She smirked at her own cunning.

"I most certainly did _not_ come here to see you."

"Why, then?"

"Believe it or not, I had business to attend to. Something you apparently take no heed of," he retorted.

"Oh, please love. What on earth could Manhattan's High Warlock have to attend to way over here in London? It couldn't be of that much importance if he sent his little student to handle it for him," she said.

"I'll have you know—" he started angrily, but she cut him off.

"Yes! You are one powerful little flamethrower," she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation as if dealing with a small child. "And when Ardenian Wintham steps down, you will be the most powerful warlock in the world, save for Leopold."

"Leopold Darkin is a joke," Magnus nearly spit the man's name. "A scar on the race of Lilith."

"Ah, yes, he's vile. But he is one hundred years younger than you, and yet he is a High Warlock and you are not. Why is that, sweetheart?"

"He came by the job much like everyone else in Brooklyn, if you are any indication. It was dropped in his lap because there was no one else there to take it," Magnus said with disgust.

"You can regurgitate that nonsense Ardenian's been feeding you all you want, but you know as well as I that Darkin is just as powerful and cunning as your beloved master."

"I want nothing to do with the rogue. He's a sorry excuse for a warlock, and he has no business being compared with the great Ardenian Wintham," Magnus said with all the hero-worshipping tone of a religious zealot.

"So why not depose him from his throne?" Camille interjected. "Why, you solve so many problems at once. You would get to be High Warlock sooner than you expected, you would get to rule alongside Ardenian and not _instead_ of him, and you and I would be free to be together without threat from the stupid, paranoid Nephilim."

"No, Camille. I will succeed Ardenian in Manhattan, Leopold will remain in his ratty hole of a home, and you will remain head of Brooklyn's vampires. And we cannot be together, because the Nephilim will immediately frown on an alliance of Downworld officials of neighboring regions. They'll think we're all uniting against them, and we most certainly are not. Ardenian wants no trouble with Idris, and neither do I. You would do well to adopt the same sentiment," Magnus finished with finality in his tone. But Camille, however, was not to be deterred.

"So avoid the Nephilim and do as I suggest. Challenge Leopold. Duel, and kill him, and assume his throne." When Magnus was about to snap back at her, she continued before he could open his mouth.

"You only want to be High Warlock of Manhattan because all those girls wouldn't fawn over you if you were the highest official of the neighboring region. But Bane, love, they only see the money. Most are Fey whores and vampires without a cent to their name. They only desire your connection, your promise of royalty. None of them could love you like I do, my sweet. None would show you the life I could show you. Choose to be with me, and you shall never know pain."

"It is most definitely not because of the women that I choose to succeed my master, I can assure you." And at that moment, Simon could see the emptiness his society life afforded him. He could really see that Magnus respected this man who was his master, and intended to do him honor. Why then, in the present day, is Magnus in the position he so clearly despises in this earlier time? He never seemed to complain about his life in Brooklyn. However, Simon was beginning to understand where his expensive taste came from. Even if he lived in a converted factory loft, he was still obviously raised in the lap of luxury and that was hard to give up.

"Darling, one day you will see reason. And that will be the day I am there to catch you when you fall off your gold-tipped throne." With that, Camille whisked from the room into what Simon could barely make out as a lavish bathroom before she slammed the door. Magnus sat down on the edge of the huge bed she had been laying across, and put his head in his hands.

**Ok folks, first of all, in case you can't keep up (I do this sometimes with books, just so I can keep people straight, lol)**

**Magnus Bane=apprentice to Ardenian Wintham**

**Ardenian Wintham=High Warlock of Manhattan**

**Leopold Darkin=High Warlock of Brooklyn**

**Camille=Head of Brooklyn's vampire clan**

**Louis=Head of Manhattan's vampire clan**

**K umm…I think that's all you need for now. Can anyone take a wild guess at who Magnus saw on the street corner? So many years have passed in between the two scenarios described in this chapter. In the next chapter, we will maybe find out more about what Camille is dangling over Magnus' head in order to blackmail him into marrying her. She mentioned earlier something about dealings with the Inquisitor, which is frowned upon by the rest of the Downworlders, especially other children of Lilith. **

**Poor Magnus. He's pretty old, but he still has a lot of growing up to do in 1798. He's been a little pampered by Ardenian. He thinks he has problems dealing with Camille. Just you wait, Magnus. Sorry to break it to you, but it gets worse than just a psycho bitch who wants you for her own. (BTW, present day Magnus is right: women almost always have some ulterior motive…dun dun DUN) Review and you will find out sooner!**


	4. Immortal Possibly Dies of Cardiac Arrest

**Alrighty, everyone. The plot thickens, so to speak. Another one of jumping around. Maybe they will all be that way for a while, I don't know. It kind of writes itself.**

**I only own the Endurers. And the other peeps I invented. Cassandra Clare owns my favorite tortured warlock. Guess I just have to live with that :(**

Simon stared at the tall warlock crumpled on the edge of the bed. Suddenly he was on his feet. He picked up a cut crystal goblet off the vanity next to the bed and chucked it violently at the door behind which Camille had disappeared. Shards of expensive glass peppered the hardwood floor with a pattering sound like rain. Again, Simon's memories of a happy, glittery Magnus were at odds with what was in front of his face. He had never perceived the High Warlock to be violent in any way. He was always so calm and cool.

This was obviously someone who was on edge, feeling his well constructed world slip from his hands. His previously flawless, slicked back hair now hung in strips in front of his eyes, still holding on to some remnants of pomade. His raked his fingers through it forcefully, pulling it more out of place. It was slightly shorter than Simon recalled, only coming to just below his eyes.

As he turned to face them (without knowing they were there, of course), Simon looked into those familiar cat eyes and watched in amazement as pure, blue tinged tears fell silently out of them. They ran the length of his chiseled face, off his sharp jaw and slipped to the immaculate cherry wood floorboards. He didn't look sad, however. He looked absolutely furious. Simon knew he couldn't see them, but he was abruptly terrified at what one of the most powerful warlocks in the world could do when he was this angry. He could burn the place down, or snap them all into oblivion.

Vanessa noticed the change in the young vampire's features. "He would never show this kind of emotion in public. We're in a hotel, the most expensive hotel in Europe, mind you. He won't do anything rash." She glanced back at Magnus with a slight pity. "He still has way too much to lose at this point."

"Why doesn't he just give her the cold shoulder and tell her to get lost? I mean, why sleep with her? Wouldn't that just egg her on?" Simon asked quietly from their place next to the far wall. He was still a little apprehensive, despite Vanessa's assurance and their invisibility.

"Believe it or not, he did kind of fall for her in the beginning," Vanessa said. "In case you haven't noticed, she's ridiculously beautiful. He caught sight of her at a party over a year ago at his home in Manhattan. She was fiery, and kept him on his toes. Since he is almost completely bored to tears with every woman he has ever bedded, he figured she was his best bet at having somewhat of a fulfilling love life." She trailed off, staring a little too long at the shirtless warlock across the room before she turned back to her student. Simon filed his question about that away for later.

"So why is he so mad at her now? I mean, sounds like marrying her would have been what he wanted, originally."

"Well again, she's gorgeous. And fairly refined." At Simon's sound of disbelief, she laughed a little without humor and continued, "In public. In these times, one could act very different in society than one acts in the privacy of one's own chambers. He took a liking to her at the party because he noticed she conducted herself with poise and class. She was the very picture of a lady, one that would certainly not look out of place on the arm of the world's most powerful Downworlder, when he came into office. He made his affections known to her in the way people did it back then…now."

Simon nodded, trying to look like he understood exactly what she meant. However, his knowledge of the courting activities of bygone times came from watching a few episodes of the Tudors, Titanic, and the 1930s version of Dracula. Granted, none of these seemed very good examples, even to his mind. Vanessa sensed his cluelessness.

"He approached her civilly, and asked her to dance. To the extreme displeasure of every other single woman in the room, she accepted and they danced for two hours straight. They talked a lot, but not about important things. Camille knew what she had in the palm of her hand and she intended to use it to the best of her advantage. After all, she had made quite a sport of man-eating for decades." At this, Vanessa looked a little disgusted. Simon couldn't blame her. He wondered idly if Vanessa had been one of those extremely displeased single women at the party. All in all, Simon had begun to notice Vanessa's usual snarkiness either got worse or turned to loathing whenever she spoke of Camille.

"Her original plan was to bed the recently divorced advisor to Ardenian, a 45-year old werewolf with a slight hygiene problem, and use the connection to influence the High Warlock into siding with her in her plans. She could have never dreamed up a scenario like the one that overtook her: the handsome, sought after future High Warlock himself taking a liking to her. She was practically giddy. She deflected every time he tried to ask her name or where in _Manhattan_ she was from. When their last dance ended, she left him wanting more, which was fine with her. However, Ardenian had caught wind of the spectacle the pair had made of themselves from some of the other guests. He was furious, but more with himself."

"Why? I mean, is his apprentice not supposed to have fun? I would think he'd be happy or something. I don't know," Simon trailed off at Vanessa's look.

"Because, when the woman was described to him, he knew exactly who she was. The head of Brooklyn's vampire clan. Ardenian Wintham had always prided himself on conducting his duties with class when it came to inter-region politics. There were only two exceptions to this moral rule: Camille and Leopold. Ardenian had heard through the grapevine that Camille was a bit of a revolutionist, wanting to unite Downworlders around the globe against the overpowering Nephilim.

"At this time, there was a law that when a Shadowhunter killed a Downworlder, all the deceased's property fell to the Shadowhunter. You can see what a lucrative business this was. It made many families in Idris and around the world very rich. However, Ardenian, most likely the richest Downworlder in the world, was left alone because of that aforementioned class with which he chose to conduct himself. Even Nephilim respected him. Leopold, on the other hand, was such an insufferable ass that nearly no one could stand him. Ardenian respected his power which, as much as it pained anyone to admit it, matched his own in strength and control. Ardenian had originally thought to contract him as his apprentice since he showed so much promise, but couldn't bring himself to stand Leopold's arrogant presence for more than a short period of time."

"So how did it happen that he chose Magnus?" Simon interrupted.

"Magnus had been raised by a faction of the Silent Brothers. Ardenian had heard tell of his power, which sounded extremely promising, albeit unrefined. He came to Magnus and asked if he would come to live with him in his lavish home. After all, Ardenian was a very respectable warlock, and his current caretakers were Nephilim. Magnus was over three hundred years old, but his power was nowhere near its full potential because he had never been taught by another warlock. Magnus saw the reasoning in this, and agreed. He went to live with Ardenian, who began to teach him how to control his power. As he progressed, the High Warlock began to notice that this boy could be replacement material for him. About a hundred and forty years after he brought Magnus to live with him, he began formal training for the position of the High Warlock of Manhattan."

"Wow," was all Simon could muster.

"Ok, back to the story before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," she said, though she didn't look as annoyed as she sounded. "Where was I?" She tapped her chin.

"Ardenian was pissed that Magnus danced with Camille."

"Oh yes. And yes, he was. Ardenian certainly despised Camille on principle, but the real reason was what I mentioned before: that she wanted to bring down the Nephilim. Ardenian enjoyed his easy dealings with the Nephilim, even if they were still at odds on a few things. He didn't want to jeopardize his good position with them by letting his young handsome charge take up with such an evil mastermind." She paused, glancing back at the still form of Magnus leaning up against the wall of the beautiful hotel room, tears streaming silently down his angry face.

"Ardenian explicitly told Magnus he could not go near her again. He could associate civilly with her in a crowd, but no more. He had caught on to Magnus' vague romantic interest in her, and he forbade it. He told his apprentice who Camille was, where she ruled, and what her supposed plans were. Magnus being Magnus, and never liking authority anyway, agreed to the terms but continued to see her in secret. The thrill of breaking the rules kept him involved with her. He felt very much like a defiant child, because in a lot of ways, he was. Ardenian loved Magnus deeply, like his own son, and Magnus had come to love Ardenian as a father. The two were nearly inseparable until Camille came along."

"Ok, so Magnus kind of brought this on himself, then. He chose to keep seeing her. Did he really love her, after all?" Simon asked.

"Not in any real sense, no. As I said, he was just being defiant. He had come to be a kind of spoiled brat at the hands of Ardenian, who always gave him everything he wanted. He chose to keep seeing Camille because this was a way that he could feel like he wasn't the perfect little son Ardenian had made him out to be. He never understood that even though he had his faults, he was always still a good person, and he didn't need to prove himself. He was told this countless times, but he never listened. But that was later," she broke off suddenly. Simon looked at her intently.

"What's your part in all of this? And don't say you don't have a part in it. How would you know so much about his feelings? I know you can observe happenings at any period in time, but that doesn't mean you know the emotions behind decisions. So spit it out," Simon finished.

Vanessa immediately assumed an air of authority. "You are here to learn about _Magnus_' life. Not mine. Nothing in it will help you understand what you need to know anyway," she said. He could tell she was lying, but let it go.

"_Anyway_," she continued, "they continued to meet in secret. They would rendezvous in an abandoned barn or an inn off the beaten path and make love, parting ways and portaling back to their respective homes before dawn. It was a fun distraction for Magnus, but there was nothing remotely romantic about it. Camille, however, became more and more infatuated with the handsome warlock. She set her mind to making him hers, no matter the cost. She knew he would assume his master's position in Manhattan when the time came. She also knew that the minute they were seen in public as a couple, everyone who knew of her plans would suspect them. She further knew that if word of her plans got back to Magnus, he would leave her. But she was not having that. She began to do what she does best: dig. She dug endlessly, trying to find dirt on Magnus she could use against him. His record was pretty spotless, she found out. The most unlawful thing he had done in his lifetime was associating with her, and she couldn't use that. She started speaking to acquaintances, asking veiled questions. It took her a few months, but she finally found her break, about a month ago."

"Let me guess, something to do with that Inquisitor. Ravenshead or something. She mentioned it earlier."

"Yes, Inquisitor Ravenscar. He was the current Nephilim Inquisitor. Camille caught wind that Magnus had met with him in secret, without telling his master. This was wise, she thought, since the High Warlock would probably disown him if he knew the particulars."

"What did he do? Was it really that bad?"

"Honestly, I don't believe it was bad at all. He didn't think so either. Even though he knew his master would disapprove, he felt he was doing the right thing. The Inquisitor had approached Magnus at one of the many parties held by his master. Ravenscar pleaded for his help in locating a league of witches and warlocks who were killing innocent humans and using the blood to perform rituals on Shadowhunters. The particulars of the infractions aren't important, and they are quite heinous, so I won't even get into it.

"Magnus, of course, suggested alerting the Council of Lilith, but the Inquisitor confided that he had gone to them and met with complete opposition. It was well known, even to Magnus, that choosing another race over your own, especially Shadowhunters, was completely forbidden. The Council had refused to help, saying that it was the mandate of the Nephilim to protect humans and that they should just learn how to better do their job. Magnus, being as I said before a very good person at heart, agreed to help. He would find out who these rogue witches and warlocks were and infiltrate them. He would then report back to the Inquisitor, who would do what he pleased with them. Magnus' only request was that no one ever find out he had any part in it. That was their agreement, and all went according to plan.

"Magnus dealt with Ardenian stomping around in a rage for weeks, yelling about those damned Shadowhunters murdering children of Lilith without provocation. They were 'filth, outrageous filth!' Magnus got very uneasy when Ardenian's contacts had alerted him to the fact that the Nephilim had a warlock spy working for them, but no one could figure out who it was, and they never did.

"This whole ordeal happened about six months ago, and as I said, Camille discovered who the spy was about a month ago. She had hit the jackpot as far as she and her plans were concerned. If she held the information over Magnus' head and he caved and married her, leaving his position in Manhattan for good, well that would be wonderful. However, it would also work in her favor if he refused. She would tell the Council anyway, and when Ardenian found out he would disown Magnus, paving the way for her to lick his wounds. She felt like an utter genius, and what you are witnessing right now is her working her genius magic on him. She's slowly breaking him down."

Simon was about to comment, but there was a knock at the door. Magnus quickly wiped the few remaining tears off his face and assumed an arrogant posture, despite his current state of undress. He opened the door, and a small man in a black suit handed him a folded piece of paper.

"This comes to Master Bane from Master Wintham. It is marked urgent, sir," the man at the door explained.

"Thank you, Garrett," Magnus replied and handed the man a small silver coin. The man retreated and Magnus shut the door. He went to sit at the vanity and opened the note. He read it in silence, folded it back up and moved to stand just as Camille came out of the door she had gone into a while ago.

"I've received word from my master. I must return to New York in the morning," he said quickly, obviously pleased at the escape route he'd just been granted.

"So soon? You just arrived here three days ago!" Camille whined. "I'll go with you then. There's no point in remaining here if no one will be in my bed when I wake up in the morning," she said seductively, running her finger down his bare chest and playing with the waistband of his pants.

"Oh, I'm sure you could find some poor, confused sap of a vampire to fill the void. Or perhaps that handsome Herondale boy you were dancing with at the party? I'm sure he would oblige you," he said unfeelingly as he moved away from her and began to gather his clothes from the various corners of the room.

"My darling Bane, I only have eyes for you."

"So I've come to notice, much to my misfortune," he sighed. He was pulling on his weird little black shoes that resembled Simon's.

"Consider my offer carefully. You never know what might befall you if you refuse, other than my being immensely heartbroken," she said with a pouty expression that was laced with underlying menace.

Magnus simply gathered the rest of his things, and the note, and headed out the door, slamming it behind him. Camille lay on the bed in her dressing gown and laughed sinisterly to herself. Vanessa looked at her with unveiled loathing. She looked as if she wanted to murder her where she lay and would have no qualms about doing it. However, before long, she turned to Simon.

"Hold on again," she said, and took his hand. He was prepared this time when she yanked his arm harshly, and watched with grim fascination as the room began to spin again.

Alexander Lightwood gazed at the gorgeous man that lay in bed next to him. The sun coming through the slit in the curtains played across the exposed skin of his back, where the Shadowhunter could still make out a fine sheen of glitter. He smiled to himself. _My shiny disco ball boyfriend,_ he thought with a chuckle. He didn't know if he could ever get used to calling him his boyfriend. It was almost too good to be true how it had all worked out. He felt like they were in their own little bubble, untouchable and happy. Nothing could tear them apart.

A few moments into Alec's reverie, Magnus stirred. He looked up through lidded eyes and caught Alec staring.

"I know I'm gorgeous, but staring is still considered rude. You better watch out or I'll have to punish you," he said with a wink.

"_You_ better watch out. I might like it," Alec said deviously.

Magnus rolled over and sat up. He went to kiss Alec, but stopped at the last minute and placed his lips on the Shadowhunter's cheek instead. At Alec's incredulous glance he said, "Sorry. I didn't want to unduly subject you to morning breath."

Alec laughed and slid out of bed. He had already been up for a few hours, brushed his teeth and donned a pair of dark jeans. He was due at the Institute in the next hour or so, but he was stalling. He had gotten so spoiled on time with Magnus that whenever duty called, he felt physically uncomfortable at the loss.

Magnus went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He took the fastest shower he had ever taken, and opted for simple black kohl liner around his eyes and left his hair wet, simply combing it straight back off his face. He went back to the bedroom to find it empty. He stalked the halls of the apartment until he found Alec in the kitchen, slathering butter on top of two high stacks buttermilk pancakes. Magnus went to the cabinet to grab the syrup and resisted the urge to pour it all over Alec and lick it off. That would have to wait for another day.

They ate in relaxed silence, Magnus staring at Alec in his heather gray t-shirt and dark wash jeans, all the way down to his thick brown boots. When they were done they placed their dishes in the sink and walked to the living room, Magnus in his simple dark purple v-neck and skinny jeans.

"I hate to say it, but—" Alec began.

"I know, I know. It hurts worse to hear you say it, so just don't. The sooner you get going, the sooner you can get back to me," Magnus said. In his mind, it was already hours later and Alec had returned and they were sprawled on the couch watching Project Runway, Alec complaining that _that guy is just a little too hard on them sometimes_. He was so cute.

"I agree," Alec replied with a sweet smile, pulling Magnus down into a deep kiss. They quickly got carried away, Magnus pushing Alec into the wall and pinning him there, the Shadowhunter not resisting in the least. The warlock's hands reached up to twine in Alec's hair, and he moaned as the boy's hands slid down to grab his hips and force them into his own.

Finally, after a few shaky breaths, Alec said, "Ok. I think I better go before I'm late. I'll be back before you know it." After one last quick peck on the nose, Magnus reluctantly let him go and watched him clunk down the stairs and out the front door.

The warlock proceeded to go about his usual morning ritual, which consisted of feeding his poor cat (who always seemed to miss Alec just as much as he did), making the bed (a habit he'd picked up from Alec, learning steadily that even an act as simple as turning down the sheets could be considered foreplay if you did it right), and finally flopping down on the couch to watch a little Say Yes to the Dress.

He had just snapped on the TV when he heard a faint knock on the door. _Ha, couldn't stay away could you?_ He thought with satisfaction, although he figured Alec had probably just forgotten something. He stood and walked to the door, and made his way down the stairs to the main complex door. He was ready for Alec to rush into his arms for another kiss when he opened the door.

His jaw popped open and his eyes grew wide with astonishment. His heart rate skyrocketed and he was momentarily distracted by the thought of an immortal possibly dying of cardiac arrest.

"_What_," he annunciated quietly and carefully, "the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

**Ohhhhhh what do we have here? Cliffy? Yes? So did you like this chap? What do you think Vanessa's place in all this is? I bet you can't guess. But we will see. **

**Is this getting too in depth? I promised it would be a Malec story and it is. It's just way different. I'm enjoying writing it so far, and I keep pushing out really long chaps. I'm kinda proud, but I can't take all the credit because mostly it writes itself. Hopefully that keeps up since I don't think I could manage long ass chaps like this on my own lol. **

**Please Please Please give me feedback! This one is shaping up to be an epic piece of work, and concrit and encouragement is greatly appreciated. Even if you just want to tell me that you think Camille sucks and she should go to hell. Reviews are like crack for me. Not that I know how crack would affect me. It just seemed like a good thing to say. Forget it. REVIEW! Chairmen Meow only gets fed if you do. **


	5. Gold Parlors and Blue Scales

**Here you go folks! Another chap…**

**I just want to say that this is really fun to write. I know I keep saying that but this is so bizarre coming out of my brain and I can't really wrap my head around it. It's getting so intricate and stuff. Ok I'll shut up now lol**

**Cassandra Clare owns everyone you've already heard of.**

His blood boiled as he stared the intruder down, letting his red tinged gaze slip from the sleek black collar adorning the slender neck down to the legs that seemed to go on for days, which were hidden at the moment by a thick black cape meant to shield her skin from the burning sun. She brushed back her brunette ringlets and smiled like a medieval executioner.

"All these years and you are still as cranky as ever. I can come and go wherever I please in this region. I am still a ranking official here, no matter how much you try to sweep me under the rug."

"Apparently I need a bigger broom. The one I used obviously doesn't take care of cockroaches like you for good."

"Oh, Bane dear. I always did like your fire. It was especially nice in my bed. Care to relive a few old memories?" she asked seductively as she ran her blood red nails down the length of his arm.

He jerked away as if she'd shocked him. "What the hell do you want? You ruined any semblance of a life I ever had. I am just now getting it back together and I'll be _damned_ if I let you have a hand in bringing it down again."

"Why must it be that I _want_ something? And why must it be that I intend to do you harm? Can't an old friend drop by to see how things are going in her jurisdiction without getting the third degree from her fellow official? We are supposed to work together you know," she said with a pouty frown.

"It seems I wasn't clear when I banished you the first time. You _are not welcome_ here. Raphael has been doing just fine all these years and I doubt he wants to give up his throne now."

"Raphael," she spit the name with distaste, "is an incompetent swine. He lets valuable things slip through his fingers while he dawdles with the Nephilim. It was a shame I had to leave him in charge but he was the oldest and _you_ left me no choice, what with your vile threats and promises. Now are you going to adopt a gentlemanly air and invite me in or are you going to be the cad I remember you to be and force me to relate my business out here on the front steps?"

He considered the choices he had. He really just wished she would go away and never come back. Just the sight of her face made his vision go red. On the other hand, if Alec _did_ forget something and make his way back to the flat, how was he going to explain the gorgeous woman making passes at him at the front door? At least if she came in he could hide her if need be. He grudgingly stepped aside to clear the way for her.

When they were seated in the living room, he began without preamble, "Just tell me what the hell you want and get out, Camille. You are tainting the air just by being here."

"You seem uneasy, love. Why are you so eager to rid yourself of me? Could it be that you don't return the feelings I have for you?" she asked.

"I think you know damn well why I want to be rid of you. Quite simply, I hate you. No one in this world could despise anyone as much as I despise you," he said in a clipped voice. His patience was wavering.

"That isn't true. I know a certain someone that loathes walking on the ground you've inhabited. He even moved off of 5th Avenue. Too many painful memories, I guess," she said. "And besides, you loved _me_ once," she said absently. This infuriated him to no end. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Without thinking he said, "I have only ever loved one woman and it most certainly is not you." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted uttering them. No one on earth save for the lady in question knew that statement to be true and he had planned to keep it that way.

As it was, she immediately had the reaction he feared she would have. "And who, pray tell, would that lovely bird be? Because I think we both know it wasn't your mother. Poor soul," she said arrogantly. His heart rate spiked again and he fought to control his emotions. He didn't want to blurt out anything else that might put him or the ones he loved in danger.

"You needn't worry your pretty little head about it. Now quit stalling and tell me what it is you want so that I can refuse and you can be on your merry way." Even though she seemed to drop it, he knew she had filed that information away for later to use against him. He was determined not to slip up again.

"It's simple, really. Just information. I want to know what you know about the Daylighter," she said seriously.

"I have no earthly idea what you are talking about," he said.

"Oh come off it, Bane. You were always a shitty liar. I know you know him personally, since before he was turned and before he became…different. I'm just not sure how. Since when did you associate with mundanes? I would have thought that even you were above that kind of mockery."

"I most certainly have no idea what you are talking about. I've never heard of any 'Daylighter', nor do I care to know him. What do you want with a mutation like that anyway?"

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about it," she mocked his earlier tone. "I simply want to know what is going on in my region. I intend to rule it as I see fit, no matter what you have to say about it. The full Council of the Region are the only ones that can decide if an official is unfit for the job. And since you do not have a spot nor jurisdiction over them, I am here until _they_ order me away. I don't make the same mistake twice. I'm not a poor heartbroken woman anymore, Magnus. I intend to conduct my business with or without your help. Preferably with it, since you have been here and I haven't, and that is entirely your fault."

"I would never dream of helping you further your ridiculous notions of revolution," he said confidently.

"On the contrary, you helped quite a bit, so long ago. And you will help again. I have my ways of womanly persuasion," she said with a hand on his thigh.

"I believe you've said all you needed to say. Now please leave before I throw you out."

"As you wish. Lock up your valuables, Bane. If you refuse to provide what you know, I will come after them. And not all valuables are made of diamonds and gold, just so you know."

He walked her to the door and shoved her violently out onto the street. She stopped and turned to face him.

"By the way, dear Bane. I've heard you've been a naughty boy lately. You see, as I said, _I_ may come and go here as I please, because I hold a place of power in Brooklyn. So do you. But you must remember that _because_ you hold this office, you are forbidden in…other parts of the city unless on business."

"Don't worry. I have never overstepped my boundaries unless it was in matters of purpose," he said through clenched teeth. She smiled a smile that said she knew he was lying through his teeth, but didn't say another word. She strode off down the block, covered again in her cape that kept her skin from burning off. Magnus looked at the cape disappointedly, wishing he could snatch it off and watch her melt.

He slammed the door and fell back against it. Then, Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, put his head in his hands and cried like a baby.

* * *

As the room began to settle again, Simon was taken aback by the sheer magnitude of it. He had thought the hotel room was expensively furnished; it looked like a beaten down inn compared to the room he was in now. It looked like a living room, or parlor, he guessed considering the time. There was a roaring fireplace at one end, the enormous ivory mantle laid over with gold at various parts of the intricate angel carvings. On either side of the fireplace were oversized, overstuffed white couches, with ornate ivory backs carved in the same manner as the fireplace.

The walls glowed with gold paint laid over carved wood paneling, like an old library from a lodge, except now it looked as thought it belonged in palace instead. The floor was carpeted in thick piled white, and it looked extremely soft. Simon was afraid if he moved much, he would leave some kind of stain on the immaculate floor covering. And, as if straight out of some cliché, the only color in the room was a massive black bear rug between the two couches facing the fireplace. The entire place looked like it was owned by Louis XIV.

"Where are we?" Simon asked, though he had an idea already. What Vanessa said confirmed it.

"We are in Ardenian's penthouse on 5th Avenue in New York City. This is where Magnus has lived the most recent centuries of his life."

"I can definitely see where his expensive taste comes from. This is ridiculous. Is all this really necessary? I mean do you really need _gold walls_?" he said as he stared around in wonder once more.

"As I said before, Ardenian is the richest Downworlder in the world. Richer even than most Shadowhunter families. He manages to hold on to his wealth with class. Not many Downworlders can say that, and that is why he has remained the High Warlock for so many years," she said solemnly. "Remember, Simon, prejudice works both ways. Those who possess more than us are still people, and Magnus Bane is one of the kindest hearted of those people, no matter how much money he is accustomed to having."

"You're always so quick to defend him," Simon observed.

After a weighted pause, she said, "I just believe in certain people, even when the world stands against them."

Just then, there was a sound in the far corner of the room. It sounded faintly like chimes. They turned to face the direction of the sound, and Simon watched amazedly as a shimmering blue structure appeared in the corner. It undulated and swirled until finally taking on the faint shape of a doorway. As they watched, Magnus Bane, a hell of a lot more put together than the last time they saw him, strode confidently through into the room from thin air. When he was fully through, the portal flickered a few times and finally dissolved into nothing.

Magnus stood in the center of the room dressed in a blue velvet coat with tails, buttoned snugly across his chest. His pants were a faint ivory, and blended into the carpet until the eye reached his gray buckled shoes. Even in the ridiculous attire of the time, Magnus till came off as timeless and stylish. It was profound.

As they stood there silently invisible, a door on the wall next to the fireplace opened and a stout man with a graying mustache stepped through the door wearing a smart black suit with a pressed white shirt underneath. A butler, Simon presumed.

"Oh! Master Bane, you've arrived. I'll inform Master Wintham immediately," he said with a bow.

"Thank you very much, Reynolds. I shall very much like to see my master. It's been a week too long," Magnus said with a smile. Reynolds bowed again and scurried from the room.

Magnus wandered about the room, caressing his fingers over this and that, seeming to welcome it all back to his gaze. He must love this place if he had only been gone a week and he missed it so much.

Just then, the same door opened again, and a man stepped into the room. He was unlike anything Simon had ever seen. His presence was very powerful. He stood nearly as tall as Magnus, with ash blond hair that reached to his shoulders, thick and shiny. He wore a linen shirt tucked under a gold vest. He wore ivory pants that matched Magnus'. He should have blended right into the background of the room, but he stood out like a beacon of light in the night sky.

It wasn't only his powerful presence that drew the eye, but a very distracting piece of his person. His hands, arms, neck, and the outside edges of his face were laid over with vivid electric blue scales, like a lizard's. They weren't off-putting because they were gruesome, quite the contrary. They were beautiful in an extremely exotic way. After all, Magnus' cat eyes had always unnerved Simon at first, but he had come to realize that, coupled with his slightly Asian features and tan skin, it only added to his appeal. These men were both human and demon, and it made them all the more enticing to the eye.

Simon was pulled from his gaping stare to watch the exchange between the two. Magnus, in the most civilized and arcane move Simon had ever seen him make, bowed low and stiff in front of the other man. The man with the scales simply looked down his nose at his subject while he showed his obvious respect.

"Master," he said in reverence.

When Magnus came back up, the two looked at each other for a second longer before the blonde man wrapped Magnus in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Bane my boy! How I have missed your presence in this empty home! Why did you stay away so long?" Ardenian cried.

"I was only gone a week, sir. And this house is hardly empty, what with all the servants and caretakers. And it's not like you couldn't have gone out into the city and greeted your loyal subjects on the streets of our glorious Manhattan," Magnus said happily, humoring the older man.

And the other man was clearly _older_. Whereas Magnus looked as if he had stopped aging around the age of 18 or 19, this man looked like he made it to about 29 or 30. He was still incredibly handsome, but clearly the older of the two. And that wasn't all. Magnus had never really exuded his age before. When Simon had found out he was over 800, he tried to look and see it, but he couldn't. However, Ardenian looked like he was wise because of his years. He looked like he could be twice as old as Magnus, just by the way he carried himself and the calm, knowing look in his eyes. Simon noticed how those eyes sparkled with love when they looked on Magnus.

Vanessa had said that the two loved each other as father and son, and it showed. He wondered what on earth could have made Magnus give all this up.

"How was your trip, son? Did you take care of the business I sent you for?"

"Yes, sir. I spoke to the head warlock on my first day in London. He was very kind, and said to tell you he would look into the matter as you requested."

"Very good. Not bad for your first formal assignment. You are going to have to learn and know a lot more people if you are to take over my position soon. But enough with politics. How is it that you saw London's High Warlock on the first day you were there, yet you spent 5 more?" he asked with a smile. "Enjoyed the female company a little too much, did you? Are those lovely English ladies eclipsing myself in your heart?"

"No, never, father. I simply met a few people I wished to get reacquainted with. And I had business of my own to attend to."

"Business of the heart, I imagine?" the older man inquired.

"You could call it that, I suppose. But enough about dreary London. How have things gone on here in our fair city? Did you hold any parties in my absence?" Magnus asked.

"Of course not! I was waiting patiently for your return and when I received your fire message that you would arrive today, I organized a celebration for your return," Ardenian exclaimed with delight.

"Oh, you needn't do that for me, father! I would have been happy just to have tea with you by the fire." That was the first time Simon had _ever_ heard Magnus turn down a party. It was just one more bizarre thing about this old Magnus.

"Nonsense! You know I love parties, and I love you. So we shall celebrate your return with style."

Magnus nodded his agreement and the two hugged again. They both exited the room, presumably to get ready for the upcoming festivities. Simon and Vanessa stood still for a moment before she turned to him and said, "So, do you want to wear that, or do you want me to get you something else?"

"You mean, we're going to this party?" he asked in astonishment.

"Of course. Why not?" she said with a gleam in her eye.

**Hmm…are we noticing where Magnus gets his delight for parties? I mean, when you basically grow up attending them every weekend, its hard not to miss them. He tries to recreate his old life in his new one. You can't blame him.**

**Ok answer these questions honestly, please (I'm taking a cue from MorbidMandy here lol):**

**1) Be honest: is this story interesting? Is it too in depth and not enough Malec? Keep in mind there will be lemons later. And perhaps lots and lots of them. I just have to set up a lot of backstory before I get there.**

**2) Are you liking old Magnus? Or is he just a little too weird? I can't change him, because he's the way he is for a reason. But I was just wondering if he gets on anyone else's nerves.**

**3) What do you think of the plot so far? Are you intrigued? Or does it drag a little? Cuz I'm tryin to provide some suspense and not give you everything at one time. So…am I doing a good job?**

**Thanks, and please please REVIEW. Or Chairman Meow gets it *holds up kitty and shows him as evidence* Not really. I could never hurt Meow. And I certainly couldn't keep him from furthering his romance with Church (PS. Please go read MorbidMandy's "The Many Musings of Chairman Meow". It's brought me many a laugh!)**


	6. Your Love is Sweet Misery

**Ok guys, I will have you know that this woke me up in the middle of the night just screaming to be written down. My fellow authors, you know what that's like right? Also, listening to Cryin' on repeat helped a little. Music really inspires me and this song just screams emotion to me. And it fit Magnus' mood very closely. For the record, I've always loved the song as sung by Aerosmith, but I actually have the studio version of Adam Lambert's performance of it. His voice just drips raw emotion and I really couldn't help writing this chap after listening to it over and over. I STRONGLY suggest (as an author begging you to get into my mood) downloading/youtube-ing it and listening while reading. Or at least Google the lyrics. BTW when they get to the shower, switch to Storm (acoustic version) by Lifehouse.**

**Also, I put lines where I switched between their POVs**

**Ok enough of my babble…**

**One last thing: I don't own them. Except the ones I invented. Though none of those are my favorites…**

Magnus was so absorbed in his strained exchange with Camille that he barely noticed the day going by. He had scraped himself up off the floor in front of the door and scrambled back to the living room, where he collapsed on the couch and cried even more. He had always hated the way he showed extreme emotion. He always cried when he was furious. However, he couldn't even convince himself that this was only anger that was driving the tears from his eyes. He was quite literally terrified. Once again, Camille was the reason his carefully constructed world was slipping right through his fingertips.

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time Alec arrived back home to the Brooklyn flat. He hadn't called because he was afraid to wake Magnus. He had been particularly sleepless lately and Alec was trying to let him catch up. He quietly inserted and turned his key in the lock and gingerly opened the door. He climbed the steps as softly as he could and gently opened and closed the door to the apartment.

He began creeping towards the bedroom through the dark, until he paused at a soft sound emanating from the couch. He heard it again. A soft, ragged sigh.

"Magnus?" he asked quietly.

"Alec." Magnus whispered shakily. Alec could barely hear him. He walked over to the couch and found the warlock in the fetal position, clutching the blanket from the back of the couch.

Alec was immediately concerned, and he knelt down next to the couch. "What's the matter, baby? Are you hurt? What can I do?" He couldn't see directly through the darkness, but he could tell that Magnus was crying, or had just recently stopped crying.

"I'm fine. You're here now," Magnus breathed. He snapped his fingers weakly and the side table lamp came on. Alec gasped. Even in the dim light he could see the streaks running down Magnus' face. He reached out to caress his face, but pulled his hand back slightly, remembering that he was still in his gear and covered in sweat and ichor from the demon den he and Jace had slaughtered earlier in the night. His own muscles and pain didn't bother him now, though. His only concern was making Magnus feel better. The warlock had other thoughts, however.

"Sweetheart, why are you asking me if _I'm_ ok? You look horrible. Let me heal you," he said with a little more feeling in his voice than before.

"No, no. I'll be fine. I want to know what's the matter with you. I hate seeing you upset and I swear I'll kill whoever or whatever is responsible."

Magnus smiled a very small smile. "I wish you could, darling. I wish you could. But really, I'm fine now that I know you're safe. Why didn't you call when you were on your way?"

"Because I figured I would let you _sleep_. Obviously I was wrong," he said disapprovingly. Then he changed his tone to a gentler one. "Do you want to go lay down in bed?"

"Yea, I guess," Magnus said weakly.

"Ok, well let me go take a shower and try to wash some of this filth off, and we'll go to bed ok?" He moved to stand and was almost to his feet when the warlock's hand shot out and grasped his wrist forcefully.

"No!" he choked out. "Please, don't leave me. Stay here. Please," he pleaded.

"What do you need?" the boy asked softly.

"You. I need to feel you, right now. Everywhere. Please don't leave me, Alec," Magnus pleaded again. Alec was struck by the sudden force of emotion in his lover's cat eyes. It was complete raw emotion. Love, lust, need, fear. All manner of expressions exuded from those amber orbs.

"Ok," was all Alec said. Magnus moved to sit up on the couch. At the height Alec was standing, His hips were right in front of Magnus' face. The warlock reached up and began to undo Alec's heavy weapons belt. After a few seconds of Magnus working on it, it clattered loudly to the floor. He then moved to untuck Alec's thick shirt from his pants. When his fingers brushed the heated skin underneath, Alec sighed loudly.

The Shadowhunter kneeled on the couch, straddling Magnus' hips. Their lips came together forcefully. The kiss was one of the most heated they'd ever shared. Alec threw all of his love and need for Magnus into the movement of his mouth and tongue, and the warlock responded in kind. Magnus' hands worked their way up underneath his shirt and Alec raised his arms above his head for him to pull it off. Their lips only parted for a split second while the shirt came over Alec's head and was thrown to some obscure corner of the living room.

Their lips attacked each other again with more force than before. Alec could feel the raw passion dripping off the warlock. It completely slipped his mind that he was dirty and covered in ichor and he was currently getting it all over Magnus' furry pink couch. Magnus didn't seem to care and neither did he.

As Magnus' hands fumbled with the button and zipper on Alec's pants, Alec's hands pulled at the hem of Magnus' purple v-neck. Again, they came apart for only an extremely short moment before crashing into each other again.

Alec began to scoot back, pulling Magnus with him by the back of the neck. He felt the wind knocked out of him when his back hit the floor and Magnus fell on top of him, their lips never parting. He recovered quickly, unbuttoning Magnus' skinny jeans and shoving his hands inside the hem to push them down to his knees. Magnus kicked them the rest of the way off.

Alec then rolled them over so that he was on top of Magnus. The warlock's nails scraped down his back and Alec let out a loud moan against his lips. Magnus' hands were tugging his pants and boxers down at the same time, and Alec mimicked his movements from earlier and kicked them the rest of the way off, still never breaking the heated kiss.

Alec's lips finally came away from Magnus' to look in his eyes again. What he saw there, he couldn't describe. It was so raw and unchecked, complete need. Like it was their last night on earth and Magnus had to have Alec before he died. Alec was happy to oblige the man he loved with anything he wanted. He wanted Magnus too.

Magnus violently flipped them over again. Alec was silently thankful for the plush oriental rug that covered most of the hardwood flooring in the living room. He yanked at Magnus' hair, eliciting a cry from the warlock. Tugging his hair always made him instantly hard, not that it was needed at the moment. He pulled Magnus down to press their naked bodies together on every available surface. Alec reveled in the feel of Magnus' smooth tan skin pressing into his sweaty muscles. Their hips began to rock in time with each other, dragging hot breath and moans from each of them.

Magnus' hand clasped Alec's and brought it up. He broke the kiss and looked into Alec's eyes as he brought Alec's hand up to his mouth and licked from his wrist, across his entire palm and placed his four fingers in his mouth to suck on them before letting them go and running his tongue down Alec's palm again. He then guided Alec's now dripping wet hand down to his own erection and Alec wrapped his hand around it. Magnus groaned deep in his throat. Alec proceeded to get him as wet as possible, then took his hand away.

Alec threw both his legs over Magnus' hips, interlocking them behind Magnus' back. The warlock positioned himself at Alec's entrance and gazed into his eyes one last time. Alec couldn't wait anymore, and reached his hand back up and yanked at a fistful of black silk strands, pulling Magnus back down to his mouth. Magnus took the hint and thrust in with all the force he could muster.

Alec cried out loudly in ecstasy. Magnus matched it and their lips came back together. This time wasn't like their other times. Usually they started slow and built up speed over about a half hour or more. This time was going to be much quicker. Magnus was thrusting with reckless abandon, seeming to want to claim every inch of the Shadowhunter before he ran out of time. Alec didn't mind, especially when Magnus changed up the angle slightly and it hit a certain spot inside him. Alec started to shake and shiver in pleasure. He knew he was close, and Magnus hadn't even touched his incredible erection.

It was almost painful, but in an enormously good way. He took a hint from Magnus from earlier and grasped his hand, guiding it down to encircle him. Magnus obliged, and it didn't take long before Alec was screaming his lover's name over and over. His voice eventually gave out and all he could get out were rasps and labored breaths.

Magnus, going into overdrive, wasn't far behind. A few seconds later, Alec felt hot liquid shoot inside him. Magnus continued to thrust through his orgasm, calling out Alec's name.

He collapsed on top of the Shadowhunter and let out a long sigh. Alec kept his legs locked around him, keeping him inside. He loved the feeling of being completely filled. Magnus had never taken him like this, like they might die in the process and he just had to make love to him one last time. It was amazing, but also a little scary.

He felt Magnus' lips nipping at his neck, then hot breath at his ear, "How about that shower now?" he said.

"Sounds wonderful," Alec said softly. He grudgingly let go of Magnus as he pulled out and moved to stand, holding out his hand for Alec. His muscles were even more sore now, but he didn't care. They walked hand in hand to the lavish en suite bathroom adjacent to the bed room. Magnus turned on the five rainwater showerheads in the shower big enough for ten people.

While they waited for the water to heat up, Alec grabbed Magnus under the ass and lifted him up onto the counter. Now Magnus' gloriously smooth chest was right in front of him. He proceed to lick and nip at the sweaty skin. He took a taut nipple between his teeth and gently bit down. Magnus moaned deep in his chest and that only encouraged Alec more. He reached up with his hand and tweaked the other nipple while Magnus shivered at his touch. His other hand kneaded the muscles at the warlock's hip.

When the bathroom began to fill with steam, he relinquished his hold and helped Magnus down from the counter. They stepped into the shower and stood under one of the fountains of steaming liquid raining down from the ceiling. Magnus stood behind Alec and wrapped his arms around his waist. They just stood there and let the water wash over them.

The water on the floor ran through with black ichor and traces of red for a long while until it finally turned clear again. Alec could feel the pleasant heat radiating from Magnus' palms on his stomach as he healed him. Magnus' lips came down to simply rest on his shoulder, and Alec let his head fall back to rest on the warlock's shoulder.

When he was done healing him, Magnus ran his hands smoothly up and down Alec's muscled chest, memorizing the lines and planes of it. Alec turned in his arms and captured his mouth as the water rained down over their heads. They stayed there for over an hour, just being in each other's arms.

When the water began to run cold, Alec stopped Magnus from magically heating it again. He reached over and switched it off and grabbed the enormous towel hanging over the door of the shower. Alec wrapped them both in it and they reveled in the shared warmth. They stepped out of the shower and made their way into the bedroom, still wrapped together in the plush terry of the towel.

They collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted. They lay on top of the comforter, their feet the only parts dangling off the side of the bed. Wrapped in each other's warmth, noses touching lightly, they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

A few hours later, Magnus awoke with a start. He had been having a nightmare. He looked down and was physically relieved when he saw Alec laying there, right where he had been when he'd shut his eyes. He couldn't explain where the sudden raw need to have Alec had come from.

_Well, that's not exactly true, is it?_ He knew the events of the day certainly had something to do with it. He felt like Alec was slipping from his fingers. He knew far too much of Camille's ruthlessness, and he didn't take her threats lightly.

_"__Lock up your valuables, Bane. If you refuse to provide what you know, I will come after them. And not all valuables are made of diamonds and gold, just so you know."_

She couldn't know about Alec. It was impossible. But she would find out if she dug deep enough. After all, she had found out about his helping the Inquisitor all those years ago. He thought of telling Alec he couldn't see him anymore, just until this whole thing blew over. But he was way too selfish and dependent to survive that. And he couldn't do that to Alec. He would want to know the reason why, and Magnus couldn't tell him. He would just have to do his best to protect him.

He drifted back into a fitful sleep, racked with dreams of Camille smiling deviously in her scarlet dress in London, Alec's shining blue eyes the night they first met, Camille threatening him, Alec's gorgeous, trembling body the first time they made love, Leopold's crazy-eyed stare, Alec in pain, being tortured, Camille's evil laughter, Alec crying out his name, begging him not to let go…

**Well there you go folks, an epic lemon if I do say so myself, even though the actual lemon part was rather short. It's the feeling behind it that counts. And much much foreshadowing in this chap.**

**Tell me honestly, was this a good lemon? Or just a cheap shot to get some sex into my story because it was definitely lacking.**

**Also, in re-reading this I'm not really that happy with the actual writing style of it, but bc it's a lemon I'm hoping you'll like it anyway? Only way to tell me is to...you guess it. REVIEW!**


	7. The Thin White Sheets of Defeat

**Wow I think this is 3 updates in 24 hrs? lol I just can't quit with this fic. As I said, it basically writes itself. Almost the entire plot has worked itself out in my head, and chapters well in the future have already been mentally written. I'll give you this one warning: be prepared for lots of Malec angst, as per my usual MO. I like to put these poor boys through hell. Can't help it, and it makes for interesting reading, no?**

**I don't own my favorites.**

Alec woke up to the sound of Magnus snoring softly. He smiled and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before moving to sit up. _Woah…ouch._ Every single one of his muscles screamed at once. He was more sore than he could ever remember being in his life. Magnus had never been so…adamant…about his love making before. Alec enjoyed it immensely, but he was paying for it now. He didn't mind in the least, however.

He slowly made his way to the bathroom and took a quick hot shower to relax his aching muscles. As the water rained down over his head, he thought back to the night before when he found Magnus a crumpled mess on the couch. He had let it go at the time, willing to give Magnus anything he wanted just to make him happy. The wild look in his eyes had scared him a little, if he was being honest with himself.

He still wondered what on earth could break through the cool, collected exterior he had come to love in his boyfriend. He knew Magnus loved him dearly and he didn't even get this upset when Alec barely made it through the door, covered in blood from a thousand different injuries. He always looked worried, but kept his cool and healed him and dealt with it. This was the first time Alec had seen Magnus completely lose his cool. He and Magnus didn't keep secrets, and he planned to ask what in the world would affect Magnus so much.

He had busied himself with tidying up the living room, removing the remnants of the previous night: their clothes strewn about, the off-center coffee table (it had been knocked to the side when they crashed to the floor), and the disheveled couch cushions (also knocked off when they had gone down). While he was putting the last of the throw pillows into place, he felt slender arms snake around his waist.

He turned around and didn't have time to say a word before Magnus placed a fervent kiss on his lips.

When they finally broke apart, Alec smiled into those exotic cat eyes. This man was everything to him, and he hated to see him hurt. He noticed the need in his eyes wasn't entirely gone. He decided to start slow.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked gently.

"Yes, very. Thank you for last night. I mean, putting up with me and my craziness," Magnus said shyly.

"I _never_ 'put up' with you, Magnus. I love you and I'll give you just about anything you ask me for. You should know that by now," Alec said with conviction in his eyes.

"Still, I probably should have let you at least take a shower, or given you at least one night to let your muscles rest. You must feel horrible this morning. I'm sorry I was so rough with you."

"Trust me, I'm paying for it this morning, but I never, ever regret anything I do with you. It just bothers me what the reason was behind it. When I came home last night, you were a mess. What happened?"

"Nothing," Magnus answered much too quickly. Alec gave him an accusing look. He went on with a sigh, "I just had a run in with one of my former…clients. It wasn't particularly pleasant, and it was so unexpected I was taken completely by surprise," he finished lamely. Alec knew it wasn't the whole truth.

"Please just tell me, Magnus. I want to be here for you, but you have to let me. What on earth happened with a simple former client that could have had you crying your eyes out on the couch in the fetal position when I got home?"

"It's just that…it was…and I thought…I thought it was all over," he stammered. He looked like he was about to cry again and Alec hugged him tighter as the warlock rested his head on his shoulder. Clearly, this was difficult for him.

The two lovers had discussed Magnus' past before, but never really in depth. Magnus had told him about where he was raised with the Silent Brothers, and how another warlock had come and taken him away from them and helped him hone his power. He never mentioned the warlock's name, or where he was now, but he always got a mournful look in his eyes when he talked of him, and Alec always noticed a strong sense of admiration. He often wondered if the warlock was still alive (which seemed likely, considering he was a warlock), if he was from around New York City, or from some faraway land. When Magnus talked of his tutor of sorts, it was always very vague.

Alec thought this warlock must be powerful, and wished he could meet someone that had seemed to influence Magnus so much. He had always wanted to ask his lover about him, but every time he was about to, he chickened out, remembering the look in Magnus' eyes whenever he talked about him.

There was one thing they had never discussed: his love life. Alec wasn't sure he wanted to know how many men he had been with in his 800 years. It seemed daunting and unnerving to think about. He usually avoided the subject, and Magnus seemed to welcome his lack of interest.

"You want something to eat?" Alec asked.

"Sure," Magnus replied. When he looked up, his face was dry and full of love. They walked to the kitchen, Magnus in his silk robe and Alec in his black cotton pajama pants. Alec whipped up a quick batch of biscuits and Magnus made a tub of butter appear on the table. They ate in comfortable silence, as they always did. Like an old married couple.

* * *

The party was what Simon would expect a party at the turn of the 19th century to be. Boring, stuffy, and full of richly dressed people talking about what they thought was important. He and Vanessa worked the crowd as Master Lewis and Madame Minaldi, graciously bowing their heads to people that greeted them cordially. They steered clear of Magnus, rather forcefully on Vanessa's part. When Simon asked if it would be really _that_ bad if he caught a glimpse of them, she looked at him in horror.

"If Magnus sees me…either one of us, there could be disaster. Not so much now, but when we delve into the next few years," she said cryptically. It did nothing to curb his interest.

"You really need to tell me what's going on here," he said, a little harshly, but he couldn't take it back now.

"What's going on here is we are enjoying a party in a simpler time. Not many people get the opportunity to visit a bygone era, not even regular immortals. They can only recall. I have the luxury and the curse of being able to actually go back and relive it, even though there is not a damn thing I can change," she finished angrily.

"So what is our purpose here?" he asked after a short silence between them.

"We are here to enjoy the party. Why else?" she said.

"I thought you said everything you did had a purpose. Why are we playing around here when you could be showing me vital information?"

"Fine. I can show you some more, if you'd like. I just thought you'd have fun at the kind of party you've only read about in books. Most people would kill for this opportunity," she snapped.

He had followed her gaze all too much that evening. "Yes, but most people wouldn't come here to watch you pine over a gay man back when he didn't know he was gay." He knew it was mean, but he had had about enough.

She yanked on his arm again and the room spun as it had before. They appeared in a very shabby inn with a dirt floor. They were in the bar/lobby/whatever area. Dirty men and scantily clad women littered the place. He caught sight of Magnus, his hair longer than before, sitting at the bar alone. He was nursing a glass of what looked like scotch, but Simon couldn't tell. He finished it off and waved at the bartender. From the way the bartender studiously and nervously avoided looking at Magnus' eyes, Simon determined this was a mundane gathering place.

"It's two years later, in case you were wondering," Vanessa snapped. She was still angry about being called out on her infatuation.

"Ok, so what's happened in the meantime?"

"Camille has been biding her time and honing her skills. While she still wants to further her plan of uniting Downworlder territories, but she's still incredibly hung up on Magnus. She wants to marry him, bad. He's put up a good fight, and she's kept hanging her damning information over his head. He's slowly breaking down. He knows that Ardenian will be displeased if he confesses to a relationship with Camille, but he would disown him if he found out he helped the Nephilim murder rogue warlocks."

"So why doesn't he just pick the lesser of two evils? If Ardenian will be less angry if he just married Camille, why doesn't he just do it?"

"Because either way he still loses his future position in Manhattan, something he's been readying himself in anticipation of for many years. It hurts him a lot to know that he can't make his master proud."

"Well, he doesn't have much choice does he?" Simon really did feel bad for him.

"Exactly. And he's made it."

Suddenly Magnus stood from his place at the bar and strode through a set of double doors at the opposite end of the room. The two followed him.

They followed him up the stairs into a shabby room with a thin bed in one corner, adorned with the lounging figure of Camille. She was most certainly naked underneath the thin, stained white sheets.

"Yes, love?" she said by way of greeting.

"Ok," Magnus said in a defeated tone.

"Ok, what? Dear, you'll have to give me more answer than that." Simon could already see the victorious smile playing at the edges of her lips.

"I'll marry you. Just leave my master alone, and he must never find out what you know." He sounded incredibly tired.

"Oh, not to worry. Your secret's safe with me, my only love. I'm so glad you came to your senses and recognized your deep feelings for me after all. We will be the happiest couple in the world!" she squealed. She beckoned him over with her index finger. He grudgingly slipped his coat off and began to unbutton his vest while he stepped out of his riding boots. Expensive clothes dropped onto the filthy floor, picking up traces of dirt and grime, a fine metaphor for what was happening on the bed now. Simon didn't want to watch, besides Magnus just basically laid there on his back and let her do all the work. Camille didn't seem to notice at all in her excitement.

**Ok I'm gonna stop it here for now, but just know another chap is coming fast. It just flowed better if I stopped it right here. This sucks, eh? Camille gets her way, Vanessa is pissed for some reason, and Simon's just plain weirded out. We will see how it all plays out soon. As I said, prepare yourself for hard times for our beloved Malec. Camille's a nasty bitch, and she's never satisfied.**

**Please review! It helps me write that much faster!**


	8. A Union in Hell

**Well here's some more for your eyes. FFn was being a huge heaping pile of failsos so I wasn't able to get this up sooner. Sorry!**

**I don't own the awesome ones. Though I'm starting to feel for poor Vanessa. Maybe you will too, when this chap is over. Idk. I hope I'm not giving too much away.**

**PS. I'm sorry I've been neglecting Flow of Power, but I'm just in such an angsty mood right now, I can't write sweet smut at the moment. But I'm workin hard, honest!**

**Also, ChampionShoes, I used your nickname for Camille. Hope you don't mind lol, it was so fitting.**

Another spin of their surroundings, and Simon and Vanessa stood in the back of an almost completely bare and deserted room. He looked around at the few gathered figures, picking out Camille in her trademark red gown, smiling devilishly. Next to her was Magnus, covered completely in black, like he was in mourning. It seemed fitting, Simon thought. He looked a little pale, and had deep purple half moons under his eyes. Above all he just looked…defeated. All the light and charm that Simon knew to be inherently _Magnus_ was nowhere to be seen.

There were two other people in the room. One Simon recognized as Reynolds, the butler from the penthouse in Manhattan. The other was quite surely a warlock, or half demon of some kind. His face was drawn forward like an alligator's, and he had at least three rows of teeth behind his thin yellow lips. Simon didn't look at him for too long. He stood between Magnus and Camille.

"Madame, are you a willing participant this marriage?"

"Most certainly," Camille said with full confidence.

The officiant turned to Magnus. "And you, sir. Are you a willing participant in this marriage?"

There was a long pause in which Camille gave the most frightening stare Simon had ever seen from anyone. It was directed straight at Magnus.

"I am," he said in a dead voice.

"Then let's begin, shall we? Master Magnus Bane, do you accept the hand of this woman? Do you promise to love and cherish her, respect and honor her for all the days of eternity?"

Another stretched silence. Simon could see Camille squeezing Magnus' hand so forcefully it would have brought a human's clean off the wrist.

"I do," he said without looking at either Camille or the officiant. He simply stared into space, speaking robotically when he was asked to.

"And you, madame. Miss Camille Minaldi, do you accept the hand of this man? Do you promise to love and cherish him, respect and honor him for all the days of eternity?" Simon shot Vanessa a sideways glance. She hadn't moved at all. The look on her face was pure torture. _This just gets deeper and deeper,_ Simon thought.

"I do!" she answered loudly.

"Then by the power bestowed upon me by the Full Council of the Region of Brooklyn, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Master Bane."

Magnus bent to grudgingly plant a tight lipped kiss on Camille's lips, but her arms locked around his neck and held him there a minute longer. When she released him he looked even paler than before.

As the small group exited the room, Simon turned to Vanessa.

"Is that why you hate her so much?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know what you mean," Vanessa replied.

"She's a cutthroat bitch, I'll give you that. But you seem to hate her so much more than everyone else. And I think I know why."

"No. No you don't," she answered tightly. Her face betrayed her anger. She gazed at Camille with unguarded disgust, the way Queen Victoria might stare at a cockroach crawling across her immaculate floors.

"Tell me," he said softly, grasping her hand in what he hoped was friendly encouragement. "Sometimes it's better to let it off your chest."

"You're right, I guess. I've held on to a lot of anger for a lot of years. For good reason, mind you. But yes, you heard right. We share a last name because Camille is my sister."

Simon took this in. In his silence, he looked her over and began to notice the similarities in the two women. They had the same lovely, shiny brunette hair, the same slender frames, except Vanessa had a little more curve to hers. Their eyes were in the same green family, with Camille's being enhanced by her vampirism. He had to admit, Camille was the more conventionally pretty of the two, but Vanessa had a rawness about her that couldn't be overlooked. And Camille's beauty was made the more noticeable no doubt by her current state.

"I always hated her, and she always hated me," Vanessa went on, cutting into his reverie. "She said I was the lucky one, to have immortality bestowed upon me from birth. But just look at her! She's always been ridiculously beautiful, even for a regular human girl. Even when she was all knees and elbows. She made my life a living hell. She courted all the best mundane bachelors in town when she went out into society. I was the little sister who was kept away from the light because I was different.

"She was never satisfied with mundie boys, though. She discovered the passion of the Nephilim warriors, and thought that was the best life could possibly ever offer. Then she met a vampire. He was very handsome, but very stupid. She immediately saw an opportunity to become better than me, as she saw it. She conned the young, recently turned vampire into changing her himself. She was eighteen at the time. I was sixteen. She came to me after she had her first meal, covered in dirt from the ground she had dug out of and said 'Now I am the favorite daughter. You will live forever, but you will never be as powerful, swift, cunning, or beautiful as me'."

"It sounds like this bitchyness of hers I see now isn't a recent development," Simon offered.

"She's a vile fiend, but when she left Boston to go to New York City I was so happy to be rid of her, I relaxed thinking it was all over. She would never bother me again. I was wrong, and it cost me a lot."

"What happened?" Simon wondered idly.

"I would really rather not get into it. This is painful enough, for me to show you all these things having to do with Magnus and my own sister. But I suppose you could say I was bitten by the serpent of revenge, and it ended up backfiring on me. I've never forgiven myself for many of the things I did during that time."

"What does that have to do with the things you have to show me?"

"You were right to assume I had a small role in the drama that is unfolding before your eyes, but I don't think I can relate it to you just now," she said solemnly. Simon noticed for the first time that she was crying. They were violet toned tears, and they sparkled under the candlelight in the now vacant room. "Come, there are other things you need to see. Rather painful things, but not nearly as painful as what's to come later."

They jumped through time again, and appeared in the elaborate foyer of the penthouse in Manhattan. Simon assumed this was where they were, considering it was decorated in the same ivory and gold palette as the parlor. Ardenian was standing in the middle of the entryway as Magus strode through the front door. The High Warlock immediately wrapped him in a familial hug. As they came apart, Ardenian seemed to actually look at his adopted son for the first time since he arrived. Simon couldn't help noticing the differences also.

This Magnus of the past had been accustomed to wearing dark colors, which should have been loud against the pure background of the penthouse. Yet, he always seemed to blend right in, in a way that said he belonged there. Like he just as much a part of this home as the pillars and furniture that filled it. But now, looking at him, he looked completely alien. His manner of attire hadn't changed, but he looked uncomfortable, like he was afraid to step off the foot square tile he stood on for fear of being whipped. He truly looked like he did not belong. He was completely gone.

Ardenian seemed to notice this. "What's the matter, my boy? Why do you look so distraught? Please tell me what is wrong so that I can fix it," he pleaded gently, a hand on Magnus' shoulder. Magnus looked like he wanted to jerk away and at the same time run into the man's arms and never let go.

"I have some news, master," he said slowly. At that moment, Camille glided into the foyer in all her scarlet clad glory. She smiled graciously and moved to stand at Magnus' right side.

"What in the _heavens_ is that filthy wench doing in my region? In my _home_?" Ardenian asked through clenched teeth. Camille looked unaffected; she simply snaked her arm through Magnus' and smiled. Magnus didn't move to brush her away.

With a dead look in his eyes he said, "She is my wife. We were married this morning at Havard in Brooklyn." He was speaking robotically again, like he had at his wedding. His cat eyes were completely hollow.

Ardenian seemed at a loss for words. If smoke could have come out his ears, it would have. He looked angry, but on top of that he looked absolutely astonished. It took him several moments to find his voice. Magnus refused to meet his eyes.

"Please, son. Tell me it isn't true. This is all some hoax," he said with tears threatening to spill over.

"It is true. She is my wife," Magnus repeated, like if he said it enough times he might get used to it and it wouldn't hurt as much, though that was unlikely.

"How…" Ardenian trailed off. His voice was barely above a whisper, and that whisper was laced through with so much hurt it was hard to listen. "How could you do this to me? I have loved you, cared for you, provided for you for all these years, and you choose a lowlife revolutionary above your own master?" His voice was wavering at the end.

"I'm sorry, sir. But I…I…I love her," he forced the words out.

"Leave us!" Ardenian shouted to the gathered servants in the foyer, and they scurried out. He looked pointedly at Camille, not hiding his anger or his disgust in the least. She backed away and went to stand in the far corner of the room. He continued to speak to Magnus in a low agonized whisper.

"No you don't," said Ardenian. "She has tricked you into her bed and now she fancies you under her thumb. But I won't stand for it!" He was getting hoarse now.

"No, master. I am her husband, now. I will do my gentlemanly duty, and attend to my wife. We have come to ask you if we shall uphold traditions and reside in my home."

Ardenian was silent for a long moment, then slowly raised his right hand. Simon jumped when the back of a blue scaled hand cracked loudly across Magnus' cheek.

Magnus slowly turned his face back in the general direction of his adopted father, still refusing to meet his heated stare.

"This," Ardenian articulated slowly, "is not your home anymore."

"As you wish, sir." Magnus made the same low, stiff, respectable bow as Simon had seen him do in the parlor, while Ardenian turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

The former apprentice slowly straightened, and Simon could already see the blood welling from the blistered skin on his right cheek. Angry tears threatened to spill over. Camille came up behind him and put her arm through his again.

"We should get going, dear. My coven wishes to welcome you to your new home. I anticipated Ardenian's reaction and made arrangements. Aren't I shaping up to be the most dependable wife?" she said cheerily. She nearly dragged him from the room and out the front door. He gave one last look at the home he had known for the most recent centuries of his life before succumbing to her grasp and stepping off the threshold.

All of a sudden, Simon's surroundings disappeared and the two were left in sheer white nothingness.

"Wait! What the hell happened?" Simon exclaimed.

"Well, now you know how Magnus ended up in Brooklyn. That's what you've been waiting to find out, haven't you?"

"What you showed me explains how he got kicked out of Manhattan, but it doesn't show how he ended up the High Warlock of Brooklyn. I mean, did he just automatically get the job because he married Camille? That doesn't seem right. What about that other warlock? Leopold? The one who's as powerful as Ardenian is?" Simon rattled off his questions rapid-fire.

"Magnus is a powerful enough warlock, and he was trained to be High Warlock of a much more prosperous region. He naturally came in to the job because he was capable," she said. He could definitely tell she was uncomfortable about this particular part of the story.

"You," he said. "You have something to do with it, don't you? You have something to do with him becoming High Warlock of Brooklyn and not wasting away as Mr. Camille," he said accusingly.

"Louis informed me I was to show you how politics affect the lives involved. I believe I've done just that. Please don't ask me to relive moments in my past that I wish every day that I could change."

"Please, Vanessa," Simon said softly. "I want to know what happened to you. What happened to Leopold? And how is it that Camille is just now returning to Brooklyn in the present day?"

She seemed to deliberate for a long moment before responding. "I will show you, if you promise not to judge. Trust me, vampire. I have gone back and watched these exchanges thousands of times, wishing desperately that I could take back many of the things I did, and wishing even more desperately that I could have some of the other things in my present life. But neither can ever be. So don't hold my actions against me," she said, her inner turmoil apparent on her face.

"I promise I won't judge. The past is the past, I'm just interested to know how it plays out."

"Ok, then. You'll have to use the dust again," she said. She held out her hand and in it sat another pile of the lavender powder he had placed under his tongue when they first jumped back into time.

"Why? Can't you just yank my arm again?"

"We are moving through a significant amount of years, Simon. That's why you had to use it for the first jump. The other times, we just sped through days or a couple of years. This time won't be like that. We will be going quite far."

He said nothing, just simply repeated his actions from the first time: licking his finger and dipping it the in the powder and placing it under his tongue. He felt the familiar heat again, and then came the nausea.

* * *

After the couple had gotten dressed for their day, they went out for a walk. Alec swore it was because he wanted the fresh air, but his actual motive was Magnus-based. He desperately wanted to get rid of the distant, wild look in his exotic eyes. He thought maybe a little sun would help, since Magnus had stayed inside and cried most of the previous day.

He also figured the warlock could use a reason to primp himself up. He always liked looking his absolute best in public, and Alec thought he would get some satisfaction in an excuse to pack on the glitter. However, much to Alec's dismay, Magnus agreed to come along for a walk after emerging from the bathroom with a clean face except for a little mascara and clear gloss on his lips. His hair hung limp around his beautiful face, and his attire was equally un-Magnus-like. He wore dark jeans that were lightly faded on the thighs and frayed at the hems, which hung over black leather boots. On top was a tattered, faded black wife beater, half hidden under a worn black leather jacket. With a shock, Alec looked him up and down and felt like he was looking in a mirror at a taller, sleeker version of himself. It was very disarming.

The warlock didn't comment on his own attire, so he chose not to acknowledge the change. Alec could totally identify with the feeling of wanting to blend into the background, he just couldn't understand the feeling coming from _Magnus_. He always loved being center of attention. That was one of the reasons the two were so compatible. Alec was totally content to let Magnus have the spotlight. Someone else would have probably gotten more than annoyed by now, but Alec loved his boyfriend more than ever.

As they walked slowly through the streets of Brooklyn, Magnus seemed to ease up a little and enjoy the day. Alec was only slightly relieved, and kept waiting for another attack like the one from the previous night. But Magnus held his hand gently but confidently, and they strolled at a leisurely pace.

* * *

They walked around Brooklyn for most of the day. After the near-miss from the other day, Magnus was infinitely more careful not to suddenly find himself in forbidden territory. They had coffee at his favorite hole-in-the-wall joint, talked about their life together and how awesome it is, and how much they loved each other. All in all, a relaxing and calming day.

By the time they made it back to their flat, Magnus was feeling a bit lighter. He could almost forget that a heinous bitch ex was prowling the streets after being gone for a hundred years, looking for ways to make his life a living hell yet again.

They lounged on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, kissing languidly and just basking in each other's presence. It was so obviously a calm before the storm type of evening, but Magnus couldn't let it slip by. He enjoyed every minute, soaking Alec into his pores. When his boyfriend got up to take his shower and get ready for bed, Magnus said he wanted to finish watching Bridezillas.

He sat on the couch, not paying the least bit of attention to the television. He reached into his pocket for a piece of paper he had been carrying around all day. He didn't know why he kept it close; maybe he was afraid Alec would find it and ask him about it. That was a legitimate fear, after all. He just couldn't bring himself to explain it at the moment. He toyed with the folded note, which he had received as a fire message a week or so earlier. He had read it a hundred times, wishing it weren't true. But he trusted the sender whole-heartedly, in a world where he trusted precious few people anymore.

_She's back. And she knows. Watch yourself and your Shadowhunter. She's as ruthless as ever. Protect yourself._

_V._

He crumpled the note in his hand, wishing he could just go back and change everything he had ever done. But that was impossible. And now he had to deal with choices made in the ancient past that could thoroughly affect his own future, and Alec's.

**Sooo….some drama happening here! At least now we know why Vanessa hates Camille so much (or at least we know part of it). We are about to learn a lot more about Vanessa's part in all this. She was lyin sooo much when she said she had a 'small' role. **

**Ok, time for a quiz of sorts….nah not really. I just wanna know what you thought:**

**1) Did you expect that little plot twist? (Vanessa/Camille?) I'm very detail-oriented, and I tried to hint at it sometimes without giving too much away, such as never really saying Camille's last name til now, etc.**

**2) Do you have any other speculations about the plot line? Where do you think Vanessa fits in? What exactly is Camille up to now? What kinds of guesses can you make about where this goes next? I'll be completely honest, sometimes I've gone back and reworked the plot a tiny bit just because of something a reviewer brought to my attention. I'll keep the same general events, but introduce them in a different way to keep you guessing if you're on to me to closely lol.**

**So please, review and tell me what you thought!**

**PS. Emily, I miss our weirdo messages too! BTW Rob has gotten thoroughly fed up with all the adorable boys I surround myself with (along with Adam and Tommy Joe, I've recently added Van Hansis and Jake Silbermann…been a fan of them for forever!) and he's gone to sleep on the couch with his beanie cap. Adam is just having a ball with all these straight boys that are in touch with their gay sides kekekeke.**

**PPS. Mandy, of course a combination name must come about for these two! Even just hinted at couples in Hollywood have them! Thus, Meow and Church become…TADA! Merch! The rest of you, you know you love it!**

**Ok off to bed…putting a stop to this long arse A/N **


	9. All Consuming Temporary Bliss

**Sorry my updating schedule is so erratic lately. I updated like a million times in one day then didn't update for like two days. I'm getting ready to go back to school across the state (literally, I live in the bottom corner of TX where it meets Louisiana, and I go to school all the way diagonally across the state in Lubbock, near Amarillo/Abilene and such. 12 hr drive). So, needless to say my life is a bit hectic at the moment, but no fear! I will not neglect this for more than a couple of days.**

**Also, I promise I'm updating Flow of Power soooooooon. If not today, then tomorrow sometime. K? Don't kill me lol.**

**Song on repeat that inspired this chap: Adam Lambert studio version of Feeling Good. **

**I don't own these two. *tear***

After slipping the note from Vanessa back into his pocket, Magnus got up off the couch and made his way down the hall to their bedroom. When he got there he could still hear the slapping of water hitting the floor heavily as Alec showered. He thought about all the things he'd done in his very long life and wondered how in the world fate had come to decide that he deserved someone like Alec. The Shadowhunter loved him in spite of himself. They were complete opposites (Alec was the most useless gay man he knew when it came to fashion and pop culture), but it's what made them so compatible.

He slowly undressed and slipped into bed. He felt emotionally exhausted, and he knew it wasn't over. He wished he could just forget about it all, the way they had done the previous night, when he needed Alec so desperately he could taste it. It was invigorating to forget the rest of the world and its emotions, and just feel. Feel Alec all around him, pulling him close and sighing his name.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily and was suddenly jerked back to the now by the rough feeling of mascara against his knuckles. That was pretty much all he had on his face, but he absolutely hated going to bed with make up on. It messed with his clean and refreshed feeling in the morning. The only time he slept with make up on was when he was extremely tired or way too drunk to notice. He slid out of his side of the huge overstuffed bed with a groan and made his way to the bathroom, where Alec was still showering.

* * *

Alec finished rinsing the last of the sweet coconut smelling body wash off his still aching muscles. He grabbed the towel off the door of the shower and dried himself hastily. He opened the frosted glass door of the shower and stepped out. And caught his breath.

Magnus stood bent over the sink, finishing up washing his face and reaching for a hand towel with his eyes closed. He was completely nude. Alec never stopped being amazed at how beautiful Magnus was. He loved every inch of him, from the silky black strands on his head all the way down to his purple polished toes, and everything in between. He was instantly hard, just letting his gaze roll over the sleek muscles of Magnus' back and shoulders.

He walked up behind the warlock just as he finished dabbing his face dry with the towel he had found. When Alec pressed his erection against him, Magnus sucked in a breath. Alec's arms came around his waist and worked their way up to rub his chest with calloused palms.

Alec suspected he was beginning to feel like Magnus had the previous night: he felt a ridiculous, uncontrollable need to be close to him, to never let go. Since his attempts at cheering him up with a sunny walk had been unsuccessful, Alec decided to try a different tactic that would be pleasing for them both, no doubt.

Still running his palms up and down the warlock's chest, he whispered in his ear, "I love you."

"I love you, too. More than anything," Magnus said in a ragged voice. His breathing had picked up. This encouraged Alec further.

"Since my earlier plan didn't play out as well as I'd hoped, I think I have a solution," he said, his lips still at Magnus' ear. In the mirror, he could see the warlock's eyes were closed.

"A solution for what?" he asked.

"Your mood. I know a way I can make you feel better. A way I can make you feel incredibly, deliciously, undoubtedly good," he crooned seductively.

Magnus shivered visibly all over. "And how's that, Shadowhunter?"

Alec didn't say a word. He ran his right hand slowly down Magnus' chest, letting his nails rake the tan skin lightly, resulting in a catch in Magnus's breath. When he reached his destination, he wrapped his hand around Magnus' growing erection. They moaned together, Alec's lips pressed into the back of Magnus' shoulder as he gently stroked him.

He didn't stay there for long, however. He was, after all, feeling a desperate pull to his lover, and wanted to get this show on the road. As he let go with his right hand and brought it around, he whispered in Magnus' ear again, "It's payback time, naughty Downworlder." Then he slipped his middle finger inside and Magnus moaned loudly.

"Alec," he said shakily.

"Shh. Let me do all the work tonight. Just relax and enjoy it."

He added a second finger and began to pull in and out slowly while Magnus steadied himself, gripping the edge of the granite countertop with so much force that his knuckles turned white. Alec watched in the mirror with rapture as Magnus' expression went from pained to ecstasy. It was such a turn-on to Alec to be able to do this to Magnus. For so long in their relationship they had been on unequal footing when it came to sexual skills. Magnus had to teach Alec quite a lot, but eventually Alec found himself able to reciprocate equally. He loved being able to enjoy it both ways.

With his free hand he reached into a drawer beside the sink and pulled out a small bottle. He squeezed a good amount of the contents out over his hard-on and set the bottle back down on the counter. He rubbed himself to distribute the liquid evenly, and withdrew his fingers.

He bent over to Magnus' ear again. "Open your eyes. Look at me," he said, looking at Magnus in the mirror. His eyes opened slowly to stare ahead, his gaze reflecting back to Alec's glassy blue eyes.

Staring intensely back into loving green-gold, he slowly entered Magnus. Again, Alec reveled in watching the exquisite changes in Magnus' expression. A wince at first, then a relaxation, then complete pleasure, his jaw dropping open, emitting another moan of Alec's name as Alec bottomed out inside him. Their eyes never left each other's gaze in the mirror.

Alec began to slide in and out slowly. "Magnus, you are everything to me. I will never, ever leave you. I swear on the Angel," he said raggedly. He wasn't sure where all this was coming from; he was usually not very talkative during sex. In fact, all he ever really offered were a few sighs and cries of his lover's name. But he felt he had to get it out, as if it was somehow the last chance he would get.

"I know, Alec. You are everything to me, too. No one in the entire world could make me happy like you do. I will love you forever."

Alec bent over again, using his right hand to grab Magnus' chin and twist it around. Their lips came together softly, Magnus humming against Alec's mouth with every inward stroke. As he picked up speed, Alec reached and lifted Magnus' right leg up, placing his knee on top of the granite counter. The angle provided deeper access, and thus caused Magnus to break the kiss and cry out.

"Jesus, Alec! By the Angel, I love you. I love you so fucking much." His words were growing less and less audible as Alec rammed into him faster, causing them to come out in strangled gasps.

* * *

Magnus released his hold on the edge of the counter and put his forearms under his chest to steady himself and to absorb the force of Alec's thrusts better. It was rare that Alec took the reigns, but when he did, it was nearly indescribable. Even though he had been a virgin to pretty much everything before Magnus, he had learned quite a bit with astounding acuity. He had a way of rolling his hips just so that would always have Magnus' insides rippling with pleasure. This time was no different

Alec had said he wanted to cheer him up, wanted him to feel good, and he had done the job. Magnus never wanted it to end. Surely, Alec and his sore muscles were paying Magnus back for the rough treatment they received the night before, but Magnus usually liked it a little rougher anyway. This was shaping up to be one of the best times yet. Alec, over the past few months, had begun to grow less weary of hurting Magnus and letting his own body take control. Magnus loved reaping the benefits.

Every time Alec bottomed out, the warlock cried out his name. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops that he was getting fucked senseless by the most gorgeous Shadowhunter alive. And that Shadowhunter loved him just as much as Magnus loved him. He completely forgot all the bad in life and focused on how unbelievably wonderful life with Alec was.

When he felt Alec's hot cum shoot inside him, he came too. He shook almost uncontrollably, and Alec leaned down to embrace him tightly to still his trembling frame. He sank off of his forearms and let his sweaty face rest against the cold granite. This was heaven. He loved the feeling he got just after sex; he felt completely blissful, satisfied, like everything was right with the world and there was no way that was ever going to change.

**So, sorry this chap is short, but hopefully you liked it anyway? Next one will be up sometime tomorrow night probably. I'm attempting to move the "past" plot along a little faster, so I'm cutting some stuff that's not that important. Hope you are enjoying so far.**

**Please review! I less than three you if you do.**


	10. A Duel

**Alright, here we go guys. Epic-gruesome-dramatic battleness coming up, following a bit (a VERY small bit) of hetero love (actual love). So hope you enjoy!**

**BTW I'm aware that the book says witches and warlocks are sterile, but I'm just ignoring that at this point. Before you start throwing tomatoes, NO that doesn't mean Vanessa and Magnus have a long lost child.**

**I want them so bad, but Cassandra won't let me have them. So I just make up new ones. **

When Simon looked down, he was a little startled. He was wearing the same jeans, faded AC/DC shirt, and chucks he had been wearing when he went to meet Vanessa. After taking in his appearance, he wasn't surprised to see her at his side wearing the tattered black skinny jeans and sex pistols tank top she had been wearing that morning. Her hair was back in its flopping ponytail, adorned with a hot pink ribbon. The jewels on the outside corners of her eyes glittered in the glow of the streetlamps.

After taking stock of his person, Simon glanced around, thinking they would probably be somewhere in the 1970s. He was dead wrong. Although his surroundings did seem decidedly more modern than 1800, he was surely not that close to his own era. The cars that lined the street they stood on looked like shiny motorized buggys. They looked about one cylinder away from still being drawn by horses.

The people walking the street were clad in a fashionable style he vaguely recognized from old gangster movies. The women wore form fitting dresses that stopped just below the knee, their stockinged feet slipped into smart heels. They nearly all covered their short hair with hats bedecked with a miniscule feather or cluster of pearls, with a small amount of net covering the majority of their faces. The men were all in three piece suits in shades varying on black or gray. A few sported brown ensembles, but most of the male pedestrians looked to Simon like they were headed for the Academy Awards instead of work or shopping.

"Are we somewhere in the thirties?" he guessed.

"You're very close. This is 1924," Vanessa informed him with a forced smile.

"Why are we in our regular clothes, then? Won't someone see us and sort of…flip out?"

"This part of the lesson is going to be extremely quick, as I really don't want to dwell on this period in time. So, we will remain invisible for the rest of our journey until we return to the present."

Simon silently thanked her for giving him back his jeans instead of those horrid tights he was wearing 124 years ago. "Ok," he began, "what am I going to see here? Did Magnus finally put Camille in her place? Is she gone?"

"No. She's still here with a vengeance," she said, pointing across the street at a couple walking arm in arm on the sidewalk. The building they passed in front of was familiar to Simon. He instantly knew they were in Brooklyn, in Magnus' present day neighborhood. He recognized the huge brick building, though it was in much better shape to his eyes now, as the converted factory where Magnus had his loft. The sign over the huge double doors proclaimed that they made the finest suit tweed.

Simon chuckled inwardly. Of course Magnus would live in an old factory where they made material for clothes. He would most definitely not live somewhere where they had made dishes or cars or anything useless like that.

He looked at the couple again, already knowing he would recognize the tall brunette woman and the taller raven haired man. Magnus, dressed in an immaculate black tuxedo with tails, carried a straight silver cane under the arm that wasn't monopolized by Camille. She, of course, wore an extremely fitted scarlet sheath dress, belted at the waist with a thin strip of leather adorned with multiple pearls.

But instead of their classy dress, Simon's eye was drawn to Magnus' dead face. He looked completely hollow, like he was simply a body with no soul. Maybe Camille had sucked it out of him in the past 124 years. It was entirely likely. Simon couldn't believe they were still together. Magnus must have given up on life entirely.

"So you see, they're still going strong, if you could call it that. Camille is the happiest bitch on the planet, and Magnus seems as if he will never be happy ever again. That is the nicest set of clothes he owns at the moment. They were a gift, stolen from Ardenian's closet by an old caretaker that still thought of Magnus as Ardenian's son. You see, Camille was telling the truth back in London when she said that nothing was his: not his money, his clothes, nothing. It all belonged to Ardenian, as his master. When he was kicked out, he had not a cent to his name, save for what Camille had, and she's not exactly thrifty. You can see how that would exacerbate a bad set of circumstances for him, considering if he left Camille he would really hit rock bottom. They are getting by on what little she had and his menial income from opening up the occasional portal or a rare demon summoning. No one wanted to hire the ex-apprentice of Manhattan, even if he was ridiculously powerful."

"This is horrible. This is more horrible than watching Ardenian yell at him. The only thing helping is that I know he gets out. He's so fucking happy go lucky in the present, but now I kind of don't blame him for making up for lost time," Simon said quietly.

"Yes. Eventually he gets his vibrancy back. And he would say that he had help, though I myself would never acknowledge that, after the things I've done to mess it up." She yanked his arm slightly more gently than the last few times.

When the scene settled, they were in a small café. Magnus sat at a tiny table in the corner sipping tea and laughing heartily. Across from him, clad in a simple black dress and string of pearls, was Vanessa. She looked much the same as she did in the present: simply pretty, but captivating; nothing like the harsh conventional beauty of her sister.

"You look so pretty. And you both look so happy," Simon whispered.

She blushed slightly. "Thank you. And we were." She gazed at herself and Magnus with a distant yearning, and Simon knew she was wishing it were still true. "I fell completely in love with Magnus Bane from the moment I saw him, at a party at the Fifth Avenue home of Ardenian Wintham. That same night, I watched as he danced for hours on end with my sister."

Simon didn't know what to say. He simply listened to her tale.

"Here, we had been seeing each other for a few weeks. I had seen him in a shop where I was buying those pearls, and I was overcome. He looked so lost, and I still loved him so much, I confessed my love to him right then and there. He was little shocked, I assure you. The first thing he said to me was 'You look just like her. I hope looks are the only similarity.' We went for tea that day and talked for hours. We did that every day for several weeks, as you see here. It was about two months before we all but accidentally took it further. He mentioned to me that Camille was out of the country, and their home was vacant. I said nothing. We arrived at their apartment and made love for hours without ever saying a word. We didn't have to. The first time either of us spoke the entire night was when I was leaving and he told me he loved me, and I'm inclined to believe that he meant it."

Looking at them together, Simon figured he must have. She yanked his arm again.

They arrived in a dark, cavernous room. There were two women speaking in hushed tones.

"This is the second hardest part I'm going to show you. This is where I put things in motion that can never be taken back. I thought I was helping him. He says I did, but I know different."

The shorter woman, clearly a past Vanessa, spoke. "I don't know what else to do. I love him with everything that I have, but she's destroying him. I care nothing for my own feelings; I just want him to be free."

The other woman had a shock of bright blonde hair that came to just below her chest. Her face was shaded in shadow, but Simon could see that her eyes were a vivid glowing violet. She hunched slightly, under the weight of huge violet wings that flapped softly as she spoke.

"I know, sweetheart. But there's nothing I can do. We have no jurisdiction over vampires, nor direct jurisdiction in Brooklyn, so I cannot order her away. He will have to rid himself of her on his own."

"But he can't!" Vanessa exclaimed. "He's trapped! And no one will hire him since Ardenian kicked him out, so he has hardly any income. He's incredibly powerful and no one will acknowledge that!" She was breathing heavy with enthusiasm.

"There is absolutely nothing I can do, child. He must remedy his situation himself. I do, however, have a suggestion that involves something the Council does have jurisdiction over. However, from what you tell me of Magnus, he isn't going to like it. But, should he decide to go this route, and if he succeeds, he will have the power to banish her from the region for a time."

"Tell me, mother! Anything to get rid of her at this point!" Vanessa pleaded.

"I know you have as much reason to hate your sister as anyone else, Nessa, but she is still my daughter. I do not want to hear her spoken of in such a manner," the woman said sternly.

"Ok, mother. Just tell me what you have in mind and I'll see if he will agree to it."

"A duel," she said.

Simon looked at present day Vanessa. "Your mother is a witch?" he asked, discerning that from her abnormal features.

"Yes," she said softly. "My father was a mundane. That's why my sister was born a normal human and I was born an Endurer. I wasn't born possessing magic, therefore I wasn't a witch." She looked over at her mother. "She was quite powerful in her day. She was well respected by a lot of Downworlders and Shadowhunters. Especially other witches and warlocks. That's what earned her a seat on the Council of Lilith. They are a council of elders, so to speak. They rule on matters involving the children of Lilith specifically."

"So when she says 'a duel', what exactly is she referring to?" Simon asked cautiously.

With a deep breath, Vanessa explained. "She is referring to a way that Magnus could gain the position that would award him the authority to banish Camille: the highest Downworlder position in the region, which was held at the time by Leopold Darkin."

Simon nodded slowly, understanding. So this is how he came to be a High Warlock after all. "So he defeats him, right? I mean, obviously, since he still holds the position in the present," he said.

"Yes, he defeats Leopold. Barely," she said solemnly. She yanked his arm again. "I said that was the second hardest part. _This_ is the hardest."

They appeared in the same cavernous room they had just been in with her mother, but it was now filled with all kinds of witches and warlocks, with their bizarre physical traits. It was lit by torches that ran along the circular walls of the huge room. Simon took this to be the council room, the meeting place of the Council of Lilith.

In the center of the room stood an enormous cage made of electrum bars, about 30 feet by 50 feet. It was completely closed in, even on top.

He glanced around at the gathered magical beings. He spotted Vanessa's mother seated at a long table with the rest of the Council. About a dozen feet away was Magnus, standing next to the wall and shaking slightly. Simon had never seen Magnus afraid of anyone, but he was visibly scared. His cat eyes were locked on a position across the room. Simon followed his gaze.

It came to rest on the most terrifying thing Simon had ever seen, even taking into account the weird deadly monsters he encountered in video games. The man (if you could call it that) was huge. Much taller than Magnus, and much more filled out. He had a large hooked beak like a buzzard's, and wings adorned with tattered black feathers flapped menacingly. His beady eyes were fixed on Magnus, and if beaks could be said to smile, his was smiling devilishly. He wore a faded motorcycle jacket and holey jeans. He was barefoot, because Simon doubted he could find proper shoes to go over his clawed bird-like feet. Attached to his muscled arms were webbed hands that ended in 4-inch talons, glowing faintly with a green flame.

Glancing back at Magnus, Simon was afraid for him. He looked like a delicate, fine-boned, pampered boy next to the terrible figure of Leopold. Where Magnus still exuded some of the class that came with his two centuries in a 5th Avenue penthouse, Leopold was all rough around the edges. He was rugged, and looked like he had been in his fair share of fights, magical and physical.

Simon noticed one other thing: he couldn't find Ardenian Wintham anywhere among the crowd. One of the Council members spoke then.

"Are the contenders ready?" he asked in a loud voice over the dying chatter in the room.

"I sure as hell am. Let's get this show on the road so I can be done with this shit and go home," Leopold spat. All eyes turned to Magnus.

"I'm ready," he said steadily, despite his shaking hands. He was nervous, even though it was well rumored that the two were nearly equal in power. However, experience seemed to be another matter entirely.

They both approached the middle of the room. On either end, a section of the bars disappeared so that they could enter the cage. As soon as they were both inside, there was a loud crack as the bars snapped back into place. Magnus already had sweat on his brow. His hair hung limp around his face and he had on what Simon would imagine he would wear in a bar brawl in the gangster days: black slacks and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned to about mid-chest. He looked like he had just left the opera to come here and fight for his life. Always the stylish one.

"On my signal," said the Council member, "you may commence. Whomever emerges the victor will be awarded the authority of the position of High Warlock of the Region of Brooklyn. Are you ready?" They both nodded without taking their eyes away from each other. "You may begin…now."

As soon as the word left the Council member's mouth, a spear of green flame shot through the air and hit Magnus square in the chest, knocking him back into the bars. He landed on the ground trying to catch his breath and rubbing the back of his head.

"So this is the famous apprentice of the great Ardenian! You look like the whelp I imagined you to be. No wonder he fired you," Leopold said cruelly.

Just then, Magnus' hand came up and grabbed Leopold's ankle, yanking him down to the floor. He placed his palm over Leopold's face and blue sparks shot out around it. Leopold grabbed his wrist and yanked it off. His face was scorched in the shape of Magnus' hand, but it was quickly healing. He kept his hold on Magnus' wrist and swung him up in the air. He let go and Magnus hit the top bars with a bang, then tumbled to the floor, hitting it with a loud cry. Simon had heard something snap, probably his arm as it was pinned underneath his body at an awkward angle.

He hauled himself to his feet, throwing spears of blue flame haphazardly. Leopold dodged each one with ease. He still had that creepy beak smile plastered on his face. Magnus scurried to the opposite end of the cage, getting as far away as possible. When he turned around his cat eyes were determined.

"Go ahead, whelp. I'm all open. Take your best shot," Leopold taunted.

Magnus raised his hands and shot two continuous chains of blue from his palms. They wrapped around Leopold's wrists and attached to the bars behind him. Leopold was still laughing. Magnus moved closer, never breaking concentration. When he was about 5 feet away, he jerked his arms apart, clearly trying to rip off the other warlock's hands. Leopold jerked back and Magnus was pulled closer by his own tether.

"You do know that I'm older than you by at least a century, don't you?" Magnus said, his chin firmly in Leopold's grasp.

"Yes, and yet I can kick your ass with the best of 'em. What does that say about _you_, Master Bane?" He raised his leg and kicked Magnus square in the stomach, sending him flying backwards and breaking the blue tether. "I think it says you've had _way_ too much caviar."

"You're supposed to use magic in this battle," Magnus said with a ragged breath. His face was bleeding from the hideous gashes left by Leopold's talons as they held his chin. He scrambled to his feet again and wiped some of the blood away, but more came.

"Oh, Master Bane. If I used only _magic_, this would have been over much quicker. However, I feel these people came here for a show, and I intend to give it to them. You know, most of them hate you. You and your privileged air, strutting around New York like you owned the place. They were quite happy, as was I, when old Wintham kicked you to the curb. That is, I was happy until I found out that the reason was that you were coming to live with your vampire whore in _my_ region." He was slowly pacing back and forth, looking bored and talking like he just liked the sound of his own voice.

Meanwhile, Magnus was catching his breath and listening vaguely, biding his time and gathering his strength. All of a sudden, he shot out another set of blue flame tethers, and they wrapped around Leopold's ankles. He was caught off guard and went down with a thud. Magnus pulled him across the floor, dragging feathers off his wings.

He knelt on one knee next to Leopold and used his right hand to grab his throat and squeeze, blue sparks emitting from his fingertips. The skin looked as if it was burning, with smoke rising away from Leopold's throat with growing intensity.

Finally, Leopold gained his bearings and started fighting back. Magnus cried out in agony as talons embedded themselves in his arm and shoulder, trying to rip it away. His white dress shirt was now completely red all the way down his right arm, sticking to the torn flesh. He kept his hold. Leopold's knee came up and knocked him off. He fell to the side and Leopold rolled on top of him.

He grabbed hold of Magnus' shirt front and lifted him up, only to bang his skull back down on the stone floor underneath. Magnus' eyes fluttered shut.

"Just say the word, and I'll let you have a quick death. Make me even angrier, and I'll prolong it as long as I'm entertained," said Leopold.

Magnus opened his eyes and spit blood at Leopold's face. Leopold probably literally saw red. He was furious. He got up, dragging Magnus with him by his collar. His other hand came up and drug his talons down the length of Magnus' left arm, making it well up with blood like his right. Magnus bit his lip, trying not to cry out. Leopold dropped him to the ground and walked away.

Magnus stood yet again, though it seemed to be getting harder. He snapped his fingers and a knife appeared in his hand. He flung it at Leopold, who turned abruptly and waved his hand in the direct trajectory of the weapon, and the long knife turned to feathers that fluttered to the floor. "Is that really all you can muster? Jesus, Ardenian must be an incompetent old geezer if he picked you to succeed him."

Talking of Ardenian like that seemed to anger Magnus. He found his second wind and started walking toward Leopold, throwing spear after spear of blue flame. Each one of these struck home in Leopold's chest, shoulders, legs, and stomach. He was still standing, though he was growing visibly weaker from the blows.

When Magnus was right up in his face, he let out two more tethers that bound Leopold's hands to the bars behind him. He then touched his burning blue palm to Leopold's chest through his leather jacket.

"Don't _ever_ insult Ardenian Wintham in my presence. I don't care who you are," he said through his teeth. His hand, emitting a shower of sparks but still visible, came away from Leopold's chest with a snap. Leopold cried out loudly and dropped to the ground. Magnus dropped a dripping red object from his hand onto Leopold's still chest: his heart.

Then Magnus collapsed, unconscious from the effort. The Council member who had spoken before clapped his hands and the cage disappeared. The gathered crowd rushed in, but kept their distance from Leopold's body. One of the Council members picked up Magnus' blood-soaked body and carried him off.

Simon couldn't seem to close his mouth, which had been hanging open for the duration of the whole thing. Vanessa took his hand and they were thrust into the white nothingness again.

"Wow," Simon breathed.

"You see now what I meant about wishing I could go back and change the things I've done? He was nearly killed. I could barely live with myself when he came to my flat looking like he had just come back from the dead. I tried to repent by taking care of him until he was better. It took two weeks until he was able to wield his magic like before."

"But then he took over as High Warlock of Brooklyn, right?"

"Yes, he was inaugurated into the position. He wasn't entirely happy, but it afforded him the authority he needed. He had also hoped to accomplish one more thing in all this hardship."

"What was that?" Simon asked. She squeezed his hand gently and the white faded into the parlor of the penthouse in Manhattan.

Ardenian sat on the crisp white couch, bent over an object in his hand, a note. Simon leaned closer to read over his shoulder.

_Dear Father,_

_If you are reading this, thank you for taking the time even though you saw my name on the outside. I'm sure you've heard the news by now, with your connections. I challenged Leopold Darkin for his position, and I succeeded. I have been awarded the office of High Warlock of the Region of Brooklyn. I know this is the complete opposite of anything you ever wished for me, but I want you to know that I tried to make you proud. You taught me everything I needed to defeat him. I became a High Warlock after all, because of you. I will maintain my position with pride and honor, just the way I would have if I had succeeded you. I think everyday about how much I've disappointed you, and perhaps risking my life was an attempt to overturn those feelings. I will be sorry forever, nonetheless._

_I love you,_

_Magnus_

The ink was steadily becoming less readable as wet drops splattered down onto the paper.

"Come on. There's one last little bit I want to show you. It's short, but it's one of my very favorite parts of the past."

**And there you go, ladies and gents! Magnus takes over his position, and almost loses his life in the process. (Poor Magnus!) But anyway, the next part is Vanessa's favorite, and my favorite, and probably your favorite since Magnus makes his first command as High Warlock: telling Camille to get the fuck out! Lol I hope I do the moment justice. **

**However, as you know, Camille IS back in the present. And she's definitely up to no good. Cue major Malec distress and suffering at her hands. UGH WE HATE YOU CAMILLE! You're just a jealous bitch, and you choose to take it out on the innocent party. Go to hell.**

**REVIEW! Numbers are steadily dropping…I'm sorry if this is dragging! I'm trying to pick it up a little. I'm giving you lemons to make up for it, so do you still love me? If so, tell me! Reviews **_**majorly**_** boost my miniscule ego.**


	11. Kissing the Ground and Wishful Thinking

**Ohh here's everyone's favorite part! The banishment of Camille (sucks that it's only temporary, though). But nonetheless it should afford you a few moments of happiness in all this fuckery that's going on because of her. Only a few though. Sorry!**

**Alright, as always, I don't own my favorite boys. It sucks, but that's the way it is.**

**ALSO: just a side note, if anyone has a twitter, I'm in desperate need of friends to talk to on there lol. MissBrookeErin**

The last scene Vanessa showed to Simon brought him the most happiness of the whole trip through time. He smiled the entire time.

They appeared in what he took to be Magnus and Camille's apartment. Apart from him and Vanessa, there were three other people in the room: Magnus, Camille, and past Vanessa. She looked utterly ecstatic, though she was trying not to show it. Camille spoke first.

"What, pray tell, is my sister doing here?" She turned to Vanessa. "What right do you have to even be here? You belong in Boston, with our whore of a mother."

"I'm simply here for entertainment purposes, sweet sister," Vanessa said with a smile. Camille looked at her like she'd gone crazy.

"Get out, stupid wench. This is _my_ house, and I will not have you bringing your filth into it. My husband and I are just fine, thank you."

"That's just what I want to talk to you about, Camille," Magnus said. He didn't look as tickled as Vanessa, but he did look as if he'd regained a bit of his old spark.

"What are you talking about, dear? And where the devil have you been for the past two weeks?" Camille inquired.

"With Vanessa," he said shortly. The look on Camille's face was priceless. She looked as if she would literally burst into flames from her rage. "She took good care of me after the fight."

"What fight? Darling, what are you talking about?"

"I would think that as an official in this region, you would have heard the news by now, dear wife." At her blank look, he continued. "I have defeated Leopold Darkin, and I am now the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Which means, Camille my sweet, that I now outrank you." As he said the last words, his smile grew a bit wider.

"_What?_"

"I would think you would be happy, since that is what you originally suggested to me in London. This is what you wanted, is it not? For your husband to also be a ranking official in your territory? Although, I am not much displeased to inform you that after tonight, I will no longer be your husband. We have an appointment with the magister to have our marriage annulled at dusk, just when you are able to go out."

Camille stared at him in utter astonishment. "I don't understand. You are my husband! You love me!"

"Nothing on earth could be further from the truth Camille."

"And what am I supposed to do when we are no longer married? Crawl back to my coven alone? I will be the laughing stock of the entire region!"

"Oh, I would never make you do that, Camille dear." Magnus had taken on her sentiment for him, and he was using it very sarcastically. Camille could tell, and she wasn't happy, but she perked up at this news.

"You wouldn't? You won't make me go back to them? I can stay here?"

"Oh, heavens, no. You most certainly cannot stay here," he said.

"Why not?" she cried.

"Well, because I quite frankly cannot stand the ugly sight of you. And I'm fairly sure that sentiment is mirrored all over Brooklyn."

"So what am I supposed to do?" she asked again.

"I honestly could care less what you choose to do with your life. But I am making my first command as the highest ranking Downworld official in Brooklyn. You are hereby banished from the region. On pain of death, you may not return as long as the spell I perform holds."

"How long will that be?" she asked desperately.

"I have no idea. I found the recipe while rifling through Leopold's old manuscripts. It's the most powerful of its kind, so I'm thinking a good while." He finally let his smile spread across his face. It was warm and genuine and full of victory.

Camille transferred her gaze to Vanessa. "YOU did this," she screamed. "You just couldn't stand living in my beautiful shadow and you just hand to go and steal away my husband! You horrible slut!"

Vanessa was unfazed. "If that's the way you want to look at it, so be it. Whatever keeps you warm during the day."

Camille glanced at them both in turn for another minute or so, possibly waiting for Magnus to change his mind. When he obviously didn't, she stalked out of the room with angry tears in her eyes. At last, she turned in the doorway before stomping off.

"You will _pay_ for this, Bane. One day, I will make your life so miserable that you will beg for death before the end. This is not the last you will see of _me_. Until then, sleep well with your whore." With that, she turned and slammed the door. Magnus and past Vanessa looked at each other in pure astonishment and happiness.

Simon looked at present Vanessa. "I told you this was my favorite part!" she exclaimed with the first real smile he had seen on her face since they met. "You'll need the dust one more time to get back to 2010." She held out her hand and Simon repeated the routine from the past two times.

He wanted to kiss the ground when they reappeared in Central Park. Even though he was slightly nauseous, he sucked in a deep gust of filthy New York air, even though he had no need for the oxygen. It was simply the comfort of home that he was desperately trying to take in. Vanessa, seeing his display, chuckled a little.

"Welcome home, Daylighter."

"It's never been so good to hear someone say that. Honestly, all of that really was enlightening. I feel like I know where he's coming from, now. Although, I'm still not sure how he came to realize he was gay…that part I still don't get."

"Well, about three years after Camille was gone, we were drifting slowly apart romantically. We were still inseparable friends, but the spark was dying out. He was coming to feel the same about me as he felt about being in bed with every other gorgeous woman of the era: it was…not quite enough."

"So what happened?"

"Well, it was kind of cute, actually," she said with a twinkle in her eye that was laid over with a little bit of remorse. "We were walking along this very street when he bumped right into this amazing looking man. Actually, he looked a lot like Alec, his boyfriend now. He had dark hair and chiseled features. He was a mundane, though. But as soon as Magnus locked eyes with him, I saw it. When I asked him about it a few feet later, he was so dazed I couldn't get through to him. Finally he confessed that he was so taken back by how gorgeous the man was, that he couldn't think of a single thing to say." She laughed a little.

"A little while after that, some 'delicious' guy had made a veiled pass at him, and that was it. He found the fire that had been missing in his love life."

"So what did you do?" Simon asked curiously.

"I did what any woman in love would have done. I let him go, so he would be happy. And even though it sucks that I'm not with him now, I have seen him and his Shadowhunter together and it brings my heart so much happiness to know that he's content. That's all I ever wanted for him."

"So what's there for you to do now? You're done showing me all I needed to know—which was very informative, thank you—so where do you go from here?"

"Well, believe it or not, I have some business to attend to. As you know, Camille the cutthroat bitch has returned, and I happen to know she is definitely up to no good. I've warned Magnus, but I don't know if it's enough. I think I'm going to go see him. I've glimpsed him in passing, but we haven't spoken in many, many years."

"That meeting should be interesting. Do you think Alec knows about you?"

"I have no idea."

"I know him a little bit, and uh, I'd bet not. He seems blissfully ignorant of the past that you just showed me."

"Well, so be it then. He doesn't have to know what I _was_ to Magnus. Just what I am: a very concerned friend."

* * *

10:29 pm.

Alec shut his phone and reluctantly turned to Magnus. "That was Isabelle. I'm sorry, but I have to go," he said, looking pleadingly into his lover's eyes. He did note that he was glad Magnus had gone back to his trademark glittery face. Today he had gold glitter all around his eyes and a little dusted across his pink lips.

"Tell the demons to commit suicide and stay here with me. Just this once," Magnus said, fluttering his eyelashes.

"Somehow, I don't think it works that way," Alec said with a snicker. He moved to get up, and to his surprise Magnus let him. "What, no big temper tantrum to get me to stay? I'm hurt," he said.

"I just have to learn to respect my honeybun's job. Trying to be a good boyfriend, that's all. Feel free to criticize and I can go right back to being an eight hundred year old toddler with an enormous co—"

"OK! Ok, thank you, Magnus, for being a model boyfriend. But really, I have to go. They're waiting on me. They said they got a report of seven or eight Drevaks in one of the abandoned subway tunnels. Always fun, those tunnels," he said with a sarcastic grin.

"Well, just be careful ok? There are worse things than demons that can jump out and grab you. Take care of yourself and hurry back." With that they kissed briefly, which turned out to be not so brief. When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, their foreheads pressed together for a moment before Alec reluctantly went out the door and down the steps.

* * *

Magnus went to sit on the couch to watch some television when he heard a knock on the door. The memory of the last time this had happened—Alec just leaving and then hearing a knock, and finding out it was Camille—had him extremely wary. He approached the door cautiously. He pressed the button on the intercom

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's me," a voice said. Well it certainly wasn't Camille. Magnus just couldn't imagine what would bring her _sister_ here after all this time, but he hastily unlocked the door.

When she came through the door to the apartment, he immediately wrapped her up in a warm hug. She returned it with fervor. From the look in her eyes, Magnus grudgingly acknowledged that her feelings toward him hadn't changed, but be chose not to dwell on complicated things like that.

"How have you been, Nessa?" he asked.

"Well. As well as I can be, anyway," she said with a warm smile.

"Would you like something to drink? Anything?"

"No, that's ok. I actually came here to see how you were doing. You and your cute Shadowhunter," she said.

"Wonderful. He is simply amazing and I honestly do not know how I lived life without him. I love him more than my own life." He was sure his eyes sparkled as he said this. He was sorry to hurt Vanessa at all, but it was the absolute truth.

"That's very good to hear, really. All I ever want is for you to be happy. But you do know that happiness is often short-lived?" she said quietly.

"If you're referring to Camille, don't worry. She's dropped in and made her customary threats. It was nothing I didn't expect. I just didn't think the spell would wear off this fast. It's barely been a century."

"I was hoping it would last longer, too. But I have to say, Magnus. You of all people should know that she doesn't make idle threats. Whatever she says, she means it. You can never be too careful."

"I know that," he said in a strained voice. He thought of what she said about locking up his valuables and then he thought of Alec in her grasp. He shuddered, but pushed the thought away.

"Where is young Alexander now?" she asked.

"Out doing his job, ridding the city of filth for the protection of mundanes."

"Is he alone?" she asked anxiously.

"No, heavens no. He's with his sister and most likely his parabatai. I must say, I hate the little blond bastard, but he knows how to pick off a horde of demons. Alec is in good hands."

"Just be careful who you trust, Magnus. You never know."

"I know. Now, can we not waste our reunion on talking about the one thing that sours our entire acquaintance?" he asked.

They continued talking well into the night and on through the morning. They hardly noticed what time it was until the sun got to a position where it was blaring through the window right into Magnus' eyes.

"Wow, it must be after 1 pm. I guess we had more catching up to do than we thought," Magnus said.

"Well, it was a pleasure getting to talk to you again. I'm glad to know that you're happy. That's all I ever wanted. And I'm glad you found Alec. Hold on to him, he sounds like a keeper. But I'm sure you already knew that, since every other sentence you spoke contained his name," she said with a laugh.

"Hey, you can't blame me. I'm hung up like I've never been. I think, on some level, I understand Camille's infatuation with me…ok maybe not," he said jokingly.

"Well, I should probably be off. Shouldn't your Shadowhunter be home by now? I wasn't aware there were demons to fight in the daytime."

"He's probably at the Institute shooting the shit with the rest of them. He'll be back. He always calls when he's on his way."

"Remember what I said, though, Magnus. You can _never_ be too careful with my sister around."

They said their goodbyes as he walked her to the door. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and she left. He sighed. That had been a good release he needed in all this hectic Camille business, even though Nessa reminded him of her sister. It was nice, though, to be able to see a face from his past that still held a smile for him. She was the only one.

He had just dozed off on the couch when he heard the buzzer at the door. He got up, a little ticked that someone had disturbed his beauty sleep, the first he'd gotten in a lot of restless nights. He pressed the intercom button.

"This better be good," he said angrily.

"I've always been told I'm the best, at quite a number of things."

"What the _devil_ do you want?" Magnus said through clenched teeth. He was definitely not in the mood for this particular someone. He heard scuffling on the other end of the intercom.

"Jace, can you be a normal human for once and not a self-centered pretentious asshole? Sorry, Magnus. We debated coming over, since we didn't want to possibly interrupt…umm…private cuddly time. But we really need to talk to Alec," said Isabelle's voice.

"Well that would be kind of difficult, seeing as he's at the Institute," Magnus said.

"He wasn't last time we checked," she answered.

"Why wouldn't he be? I assumed he went there after you guys all went hunting last night." He was starting to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He pushed it down.

"What do you mean? He hasn't been at the Institute all night or any of today."

"Well, when he left here, he said that you had called and asked him to come help with some Drevaks in the subway tunnels. He left at about ten-thirty last night. I assumed he was too exhausted to come back here and he slept off the morning in his old room or something."

"Um, I did call him and talk to him. He said he was on his way, but he never showed. We had to fight all eight of them with just the two of us."

"Which was a total breeze, by the way."

"Shut UP, Jace! Anyway, we hadn't heard back from him, so we figured somewhere between the phone call and the door, he got distracted. Since that's been known to happen and all," she said.

That feeling in his stomach got worse. He unlocked the door. "Get up here right now."

Isabelle and Jace entered the apartment to find him sitting on his furry pink couch with his head in his hands.

"What's the matter?" Isabelle asked, concerned.

"I have a very horrible hunch. And I really believe I'm right," Magnus said slowly.

Jace was suddenly all business. "What do you mean? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that my life is about to crash and burn like it did two hundred years ago, at the hands of the exact same person."

"And who is that?" Jace inquired.

"Camille Minaldi. The head of the city's vampire clan."

"But she's gone. That's why Raphael is in charge," Isabelle said.

"She _was_ gone. Because of me. I made her leave a century ago, but apparently I didn't make it clear enough. She's back, and she's already made her threats against me. She vaguely referred to plans to take something I love away from me. And I have a feeling she has it already."

"You can't mean…" Isabelle started.

"Yea, I'm afraid so," he said, pain in his voice.

"Well, then what do we do? Let's kill this Camille bitch and get Alec back, if you think that's where he's disappeared to," said Jace, always the one to jump to simple strategy: kill it, problem solved.

"It's not that easy, blondie. First of all, I have no idea where she would have taken him, if she does have him. She's probably not at the DuMort, and I don't know where else she would run to. Second of all, I'm still wishful thinking that she _doesn't_ have him."

"What does the head of the city's vampire clan, who's been gone for a hundred years anyway, want with Alec? While he's very good, he's not a particularly amazing Shadowhunter. He doesn't have any connections with the Downworld mafia, does he?" Jace asked.

Magnus finally snapped. He jumped up and grabbed Jace by the collar, shaking him vigorously. "This isn't a joke, Nephilim! The love of my life, your brother, is missing, and you're making jokes! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Calm down, Magnus," Isabelle said, pushing him back down onto the couch. "We will figure this out, I swear. We just have to know where to start."

They sat down and started racking their brains.

* * *

Meanwhile, in some obscure location that was damp, dark, and smelled horrible, Alec awoke with a pounding headache. He recalled something cold and sharp on the back of his neck, and then he had blacked out. He tried to lift his hand to rub the spot at the base of his skull that was throbbing uncontrollably, but discovered he couldn't move his arm. He tried the other, to no avail. It finally dawned on him, as his senses started coming back, that his hands were bound.

He discerned from his position that his hands were tied around the back of a pole that his back rested on. There was also a chain going around his chest, keeping him upright. His feet, too, were chained together. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was, but his vision was blurred so badly all he could make out was that the place was very dark and unfamiliar.

Just then, he heard light footsteps coming towards him. He fought the pounding in his head and tried to lift his eyes to see the intruder. All he could make out was a blob of red clothing.

"Ah, my sweet Shadowhunter, you're awake. Aren't _you_ in for some fun, loverboy," said an unfamiliar female voice, laced with menace.

**Uh Oh! Nooooooo! Camille strikes again! Hopefully all will turn out well, but I must say, if you've read my other story, you know I love to drag these poor boys over the coals.**

**Please review, and maybe I will make this bad stuff end a little faster? But maybe not…lol sorry! Much love. Less than three. **

**PS. MorbidMandy, did you get the teeny lil reference to my favorite kitty story in there? It was quick, but it was there.**

**PPS. Emily, Rob wanted me to tell you that if you ever want to take any of my other sweet boys off my hands for another weekend, feel free. Although, he seems to have taken a liking to Jake. So maybe Jakey Silbermann can stay. The three of us might have some fun. But Van, Adam and Tommy Joe are all yours, if you want them. Meanwhile, mine and Rob's relationship continues to suffer, but he says he's willing to work on it. We'll see.**


	12. A Touch of Agony Mixed with Despair

**Finally updating this. Sorry sorry sorry for the long wait! I'll spare you the long A/N (as per my usual routine) and just get on with the bad stuff.**

**Cassie owns them, except the ones you've never heard of. And the plot. Those are mine.**

Magnus paced across his living room for the third straight hour, trying to figure out why his tracking spell wasn't working.

"Magnus, you need to calm down. Your magic probably isn't working right because you're so strung up," Isabelle said.

"Maybe you're right," Magnus said with a loud sigh, going to sit back on the couch and holding Alec's bow in his right hand. He had been trying to track where Alec might be for a long while now, but to no avail. No image of his beloved would come to him. At first he thought that by some weird trick of hers, Camille had figured out how to block the spell. But that was impossible. And Isabelle's comment made a little sense, he allowed. He was extremely on edge and he could feel that his control was slipping; this would hinder his ability to perform spells correctly. But there was no way in hell he could calm down enough in this situation.

Just then, the sound of the door buzzer filled the room. Jace got up from his perch on the back of the couch to answer it. "Yea?" he snapped.

"Oh, is this Alec?" a female voice inquired.

"No. Do you happen to know him? Do you know where he is?" Jace accused.

"Let her in, Jace," Magnus sighed from the couch. Jace unlocked the door and Vanessa came rushing in to see Magnus grieving on the couch.

"Oh my God, Magnus. What's happened? Where's Alec?" she asked frantically. Her eyes widened. "You don't think—" she trailed off, a horrified expression plastered across her face.

"Yes. That's exactly what I think. He never came home and they haven't seen him either," he said, gesturing to Isabelle and Jace, who were both looking at the brunette girl with the jewels on her eyes with some apprehension.

"Excuse me, but, who are you?" Isabelle asked.

"Isabelle, Jace, this is Vanessa. I've known her for a very long time and I trust her dearly. So you're not allowed to kill her. So stop it, Jace," Magnus said, looking over to glare at Jace who already had a hand on his weapons belt. He moved it at Magnus' look and went back to his seat on the back of the couch with a grumble.

"Can she help us?" Isabelle asked, going to stand nearer to Vanessa, looking at her curiously. "Are you a Downworlder? A witch?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I don't know what I can do other than tell you I saw this coming. So I've tried to keep an eye on Camille, but I lost her. She's disappeared and I haven't got a clue where she would go." She went to sit next to Magnus on the couch and slipped her hand in his. He took it gingerly. "She can't be far, though. She doesn't have enough money to hire a warlock to portal her out, and I've spoken with my mother and she says she hasn't heard from her. Even my contacts in London, which is the only other place she would go, haven't heard a word about her there. She's got to be here somewhere, Magnus. And we _will_ find her."

"How do you know that, Vanessa? I can't even control myself for long enough to perform a simple tacking spell," he said painfully, gesturing to Alec's bow lying next to him. Just looking at it wrenched his heart. The only thing he could hope is that Alec had at least wounded Camille before she took him down.

"I know someone who could. If I could just—"

"NO," Magnus said, cutting her off. "Not a chance. Don't even think about it."

"But Magnus, don't you want to find Alec? You need someone you trust to—"

"No." His voice rang with finality. Sure, he trusted him, he guessed. But his heart wouldn't be able to deal with it if they took the chance to ask and he turned them down. That would just be wasted time that they could have spent trying to find Alec. He sighed loudly and put his head back in his hands. All seemed hopeless.

* * *

Alec's head was still pounding, but his vision was becoming a little clearer with the passing minutes. He stared at the intruder, trying to discern her features. She spoke again.

"I am glad you woke up so soon," she said. "All the more time to have my fun with you before I kill you."

Alec could now see that she was very tall, and very beautiful, with brunette hair down most of her back and eyes that shined menacingly. His next thought was that she was obviously a vampire.

"You know, if the Clave finds out what you've done here, they'll kill you on the spot. It isn't exactly in line with the Covenant, holding Shadowhunters prisoner and threatening to kill them," he managed to say through the pounding in his head.

She smiled. It didn't look warm at all. "I do not make threats, Nephilim. I make promises. Just ask your sweet, sweet lover when the two of you meet in hell. Because as soon as I see his face after I tell him I've dispatched you, I plan on putting him out of his misery," she cackled.

"What do you have against Magnus?" Alec asked, trying to hold his head up, though it was extremely difficult.

"Do you really want me to tell _you_ what I've had pressed _against_ Magnus in he past? Because I will if you don't shut up." She was pacing around the room, eyeing him as if she meant to devour him whole and was contemplating the best way to go about it.

"What the hell does that mean?" Alec's thoughts were jumbled. She was insinuating something, but he couldn't wrap his head around what it was. He knew he should be slightly alarmed, but his head was still throbbing uncontrollably.

"All in good time, sweet Alexander," she purred.

"What did you do to me, before? What was that cold thing you put on my neck?"

"Just a little injection to make you a little more acquiescent to my demands. Nothing to worry about. It's probably wearing off completely by now." She was right. He could see clearly now. The room was dark and damp, walled with stone. It smelled horrible, like what he imagined the bottom of the East River to smell like. He fought the urge to vomit. He felt like hell. Upon further inspection of his surroundings, he found his weapons belt had been removed and it was lying across the room on the floor, all the seraph blades were still there, but his dagger was missing. The vampire woman was now standing near a low table arranged with all manner of shiny, sharp metal objects. His dagger lay among them.

He squirmed in his bounds, trying desperately to get a hand free. It was useless.

"Do you know of a certain vampire in these parts? One that can walk in daylight without the burn?" she asked as she toyed with an object on the table.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked.

"Because I believe you do," she said, ignoring his question. "And if you lie to me, there will be consequences. If you tell the truth, then we'll talk about maybe alleviating some of the pain you're in now. But I'm not making any promises. I'm enjoying this too much. The only thing better would be if I had the High Warlock himself here to see the show."

"What do you want to know about Simon?" Alec asked hesitantly as she made her way to him, his dagger in her hand.

"Oh, see? I knew we could cooperate. I just want information or, confirmation if you will. That's all. All you have to do is talk," she said as she approached him and knelt to look at his face. Her eyes roamed over his body hungrily. Her fangs had slid out.

"What is it you think I can tell you?" he asked.

"Is it true what they say? That this Daylighter became that way by drinking the blood of a young Shadowhunter?" she brought her face close, as if she was going to kiss him. He cringed.

"Well, yea but—" he cut off mid-sentence and sucked in breath as his own dagger trailed down the front of his shirt, tearing it in half and exposing his chest.

"That's all I needed to know, loverboy," she said, dragging his dagger across his chest in a 5-inch long line. He groaned in pain as the blood welled up and began to ooze down his body. She leaned in a licked all the way across the wound. She sat back on her heels and licked her lips. "It's not enough," she said. "I heard he almost sucked that Nephilim dry. However, I'm not inclined to let you die that easily, so I'll take my time with my feast. But for that, I'll need you a little more submissive, and a little more spread out for me to enjoy you."

With that she stood up and walked to the table again. Alec, still feeling the searing pain in his chest, could only watch in horror. He couldn't form words anymore. She came back over with a syringe with a long needle attached to it.

"This will help you relax, so we can enjoy our time together better," she said. She plunged the needle into the side of his neck. He screamed and tried to pull away, but whatever it was was already seeping into his veins. It spread fast, since his heart was already pumping in overtime. He felt it like an eerie coldness spreading through his muscles, bending them to its will. He found he could still breathe, feel, and vocalize, but when he tried to jerk his arms or legs, his muscles would not obey. It was as if they became completely dead.

When his entire body was no longer under his control, she unchained him and unbound his hands. He was powerless to pull away from her as she laid him out on the cold floor and removed his shirt completely.

"Please stop," he pleaded, hating the feeling of not being able to run away, or punch her in the face. His dagger lay two inches from his right hand, and yet he couldn't even twitch his hand enough to move it over and grab it. "You don't understand. You won't be able to walk in daylight after drinking my blood," he said desperately.

"I told you not to lie to me, Alexander. But you didn't listen. Now you will suffer the consequences," she said. She sounded angry, but she looked like a child about to head to the fair. She was excited, and he could tell she would have fun draining him dry. He couldn't get his mind to think straight.

She took up the dagger again and he screamed as she sliced down the entire length of his forearm. He could feel the warmth of his blood leave his right arm and he was powerless to stop it. She lifted his arm to her mouth and sucked deeply. He felt the tingle when her fangs grazed his skin slightly. She lifted his other arm and did the same. He screamed in agony again. She was cutting deep with each stroke.

He tried desperately to break his mind away from it all. He thought of Magnus' face. How beautiful it was and how he longed to see it again, but knew he never would. He only hoped she convinced herself that she would be able to walk in daylight after drinking him dry, then walked out and burned to death before she got to Magnus.

When she finished with his left arm, she put the dagger down. He thought she was giving up for a little while, but he was sorely mistaken. He watched in horror as she lowered her face to his, as if she would kiss him. She then proceeded to drag her fangs along the length of his face, from his temple to his jaw, opening up two long gashes that spilled blood into his right eye and down onto the other wound in his chest. He whimpered and moaned in pain, but she was relentless. He was starting to feel the loss of blood, his body growing even more numb.

He fought to keep his beloved's face in his mind. He focused on Magnus' exotic eyes, then his lips. He thought hard about what it felt like to kiss those lips. He thought he could feel them move against his, but he knew it was wishful thinking. He just didn't care. He let the numbness wash over him—the excruciating pain, at least, was starting to fade—and thought of his lover, that he would never see again.

**ARGH! We hate you Camille! Why must you be such a heartless bitch? **

**I'm working on the next chap as we speak. Might be up later tonight, but if not then sometime tomorrow. Much 3, and please please REVIEW. This story gets a lot less love than Connected did.**


	13. What Real Love Looks Like

**Alec isn't out of the woods yet. Someone comes to help, though…I think…aww shucks. More angst coming your way.**

Vanessa was walking the streets of Brooklyn cursing herself for her stupidity. She had left Magnus' apartment that morning in a little bit of a rush, and she knew that he knew she was lying about where she was going. He let her go anyway. Little did she know all her efforts would be in vain.

Of course he had said no. What did she expect? All to be forgiven when the sister of the bitch that ruined all their lives came asking for a favor? Hardly. But better it was her that went and not Magnus. He probably wouldn't have been able to look him in the eye, much less ask for this kind of favor. Still, she was willing to try anything, and she had left Alec's shirt (that she swiped out of their bedroom hoping Magnus wouldn't notice) with him in case he changed his mind, which he wouldn't. That old man was as stubborn as they come.

So she was now back in Brooklyn, after making the long and miserable trip back from Manhattan, and she was feeling the lowest she'd felt in ages. She thought back to her time travels with Simon, and settled on her short lived time with Magnus. She still loved him deeply, it was true, but she wasn't lying when she told him all she wanted was for him to be happy, and he was the furthest one could get from happy at the moment.

Then, she stopped suddenly in her tracks. _How_ could she be so stupid? Why didn't she think of that before? She ducked into an alley and closed her eyes. She cleared her mind of everything else, and thought of the last time she'd seen Camille. She'd been following her at a distance for a week or so, just to make sure she didn't go near Magnus again. Vanessa felt her body growing light, giving over to the sensation of being pulled back in time. The feeling didn't make her nauseous anymore, it was just slightly unpleasant now. She let her soul drift back, and she caught sight of Camille, slinking down a deserted street in the middle of the night.

This time, Vanessa didn't lose her. She watched as Camille darted around a corner and hid behind a large crate that sat in front of a beat up Chinese restaurant. Vanessa perked up when she saw Alec rounding the same corner, dressed in his Shadowhunter gear, glamoured into invisibility from mundanes. He looked determined, and obviously had his mind on things other than his immediate surroundings.

She cringed when he came within feet of Camille, and passed her. Camille shot out and latched herself onto his back, sticking a long needle into the base of his skull. He let out a short cry of surprise, and then dropped to the ground. Vanessa watched as Camille dragged him by the arm into an alley to the side of the restaurant. She opened up a manhole at the end of the alley and shoved him inside, dropping in after him.

Vanessa pulled her soul back to her, letting her body settle back into the present. Now she had a lead.

She searched until she found the Chinese restaurant she had seen, and the alley with the manhole at the end. She figured she was about a mile or so away from the river, because she could smell it. She gingerly removed the cover and dropped down into the hole, which was about 10 feet deep. The smell didn't subside once she was underground. If anything, it had gotten worse. The only pathway went off to her left, and she began to walk down it, the smell growing more unbearable as she continued.

It had been about 45 minutes, and she figured she had walked a little over a mile before the tunnel she was walking through opened up into a large, cavernous space. The walls dripped and hung with mold, and every surface was slightly damp. But her breath caught when she looked across the room, and her hand flew to her mouth.

A dark haired boy she barely recognized as Alec lay on the floor. His shirtless torso was coated in slick red, oozing from various gashes and punctures all across it. There was one deep cut that ran from his collar bone to his stomach, with a dozen others littering the skin around it. His face, once handsome, was slashed down both sides with twin cuts from his temples to his jaw. There were also numerous fang marks on his neck, and a long, deep cut down each one of his forearms. Vanessa fought the urge to gag, looking at all the blood.

Camille was nowhere to be found. She cautiously stepped closer to Alec, the smell of blood hitting her nostrils. She almost jumped for joy when she saw his chest move up and down with his ragged breaths; she had been sure he was already dead. His eyes were closed, but he could apparently hear her approach because he tried to cringe away without much success.

"Alec Lightwood?" she asked softly, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"P-P-Please, please stop. I'll do anything you want. Just don't hurt Magnus, please," he pleaded in a hoarse voice. Just that little effort of speaking caused him to go into a slight coughing fit that had him screaming in pain as the spasms racked through him.

"Alec, it's ok. Camille's gone. I'm here to help you. I'm a friend of Magnus'," she said, trying to soothe him, running her fingers through his hair. "How long have you been here?" she asked.

"I…" he breathed in a shallow breath, "I don't know. I passed out a couple times, when she cut me. She's drank almost all my blood, I can feel it. I'm so cold," he said, shivering as if to add weight to his words.

"You have lost a lot of blood. Can you move at all?" she asked, looking him over with a critical eye. There was no way she'd be able to carry him.

"She gave me something that made me limp, but I think it's worn off now. But I can't feel my body at all anymore, so I don't know."

"Do you have any idea where Camille went? Did she say anything?" She was afraid they didn't have a lot of time; Camille could return at any moment.

"I don't remember her leaving at all. I was probably asleep again." His voice was growing weaker by the second, his breaths becoming more shallow. Vanessa went around the room, trying to find something to wipe up all the blood on his body with, but found nothing. She went back over to Alec.

"You're going to have to do your best to help me carry you," she said, moving to try to sit him up. He screamed in agony when she moved him, and she felt horrible, but she didn't know what else to do. "We have to hurry, I don't know when she'll be back—"

A cackle behind her cut her sentence off. She gingerly set Alec back down and whirled around to see her sister's sinister grin.

"Oh, dear me! This is too good to be true!" she exclaimed, looking like a 10 yr old girl who'd just gotten a pony for her birthday. Without another word, she launched herself at Vanessa, tackling her to the ground. The next thing she knew, vampire strength and speed had Vanessa tied to a pole in the middle of the room, about a foot from Alec's limp body. Camille let out a loud laugh. "I was just trying to think of what else I could possibly do to teach young Alec here a lesson in being careful who you love, and here comes a beacon in the night! I'm so glad you and your…powers…could join us, dear sister," she purred.

Vanessa had a growing feeling of dread in her stomach. She had a hunch as to what her sister was going to do, but she fought to push the thought back in her mind. Camille couldn't force her time travel abilities, so she would hold out as long as she could. She would let Camille kill her first.

"Now, Alec. Have you ever seen anyone like my sister before? Her powers are quite unique, and quite intriguing. She can show you things that will open your eyes, and show you what _true_ love really is." She walked over to Vanessa, dragging Alec's hand up, while he whimpered, placing it where it touched Vanessa's ankle. If she traveled now, he would go with her just as Simon did.

"I won't do it. You can do anything you want to me, I will not use my power to further your enjoyment in torturing him," she said with conviction.

"Oh, no? Well we'll see about that." Camille said, walking back to a table filled with all kinds of sharp objects. She picked up a small, simple razor blade and dipped it into a bowl of clear liquid. The sharp scent of alcohol hit Vanessa's nose before her ears rang with Alec's bloodcurdling scream of agony as Camille slowly dragged the alcohol-soaked razor blade through the already open wound down his chest. His body twitched uncontrollably, and Vanessa had to look away with tears in her eyes. "Refuse me again, and he'll get the whole bowl poured on him the next time," Camille said angrily.

Vanessa shuddered and looked back at her sister with a barely controlled fury. Alec had done nothing in this whole situation to warrant this kind of treatment. He just happened to love someone who loved him back, and that was a crime to Camille, since she happened to loved him first.

"What do you want me to do Camille? What in the world would you want me to do for you that you can't do yourself?" Vanessa spat.

"I want you to show him what real love looks like," she said with a smile. She walked close to Vanessa and held the bloody razorblade up under her chin. "You know exactly what I mean, so no funny business. Show him the images that still haunt you every time you shut your eyes, dear sister. That way, you can both suffer."

At Vanessa's hesitation, Camille touched her chin with the razorblade, piercing the skin and drawing a thin line of blood that trickled down her neck. Vanessa held back her scream of disgust as she did what she knew her sister wanted her to do. She relaxed her mind and let her soul drift back, while Camille took the dust from her pocket and placed it under Alec's tongue. They rocketed back, and appeared in a shabby inn. Alec stood next to her, looking normal and nothing like the bloody mess he really was at the moment.

"I'm so sorry, Alec," Vanessa sobbed, while Alec looked on in agonized horror. He watched as the love of his life made passionate love to the woman who had been torturing him for the past…he couldn't remember how long. The scene changed, and there they were again in another hotel room, this one ridiculously lavish and stately. Again, a past Magnus and Camille rolled around on the bed, moaning and sighing each other's names. The picture changed a dozen more times, and a dozen more times Alec saw the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with having ravenous sex with the gorgeous and deadly vampire woman.

He dropped to his knees beside Vanessa and put his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. "Stop it! Please, just stop it! I won't believe it!" he wailed over and over through the tears that flowed unchecked down his cheeks. Vanessa stooped and embraced his shaking form. She felt horrible for doing this to him. When she felt the razorblade come away from her neck, she reached in her pocket and shoved more dust into Alec's mouth. They were sucked back to the present, and there was Alec, covered in blood and thrashing his head back and forth and sobbing as if he could shake the images from his mind.

"I told you, Alexander. That's what _real_ love is. Magnus loved me for over a hundred years, and he will love me again when you are dead and buried, if I let him live, that is," Camille said in a sweet voice that clashed with the bite of her words.

"That's a lie and you know it!" Vanessa screamed. Camille put the blade under her chin again.

"Oh is it? Would you like to show your new friend here just what his lover means to _you_?"

"The difference between us is that even though I still love him, I let him go. He loves Alec, not you. He never loved you, and he never will. You just can't accept that. Alec didn't do anything to you! Leave him alone!" Vanessa fought against the bonds that held her, but was helpless to free herself. "If you really love him all that much, you would let him be happy," she said, exasperated.

"Please. What would you know of love? You simply saw an outlet of revenge against me for being the better sister, the more beautiful and powerful. You wanted to hit me where it hurt, so you FUCKED MY HUSBAND. Well, payback's a bitch, little sister. And the bitch is angry." With that, the back of her hand came across Vanessa's temple hard, and she blacked out.

**This is so hard to write. I warned you there was angst! Did you believe me? I hope so.**

**Sooooo….uhhhh….sorry bout all the badness. But good is coming sometime soon, I promise! It might just be a while. Or it could be next chapter. Idk….*evil laugh***

**Follow me on twittah!: MissBrookeErin**

**PS MorbidMandy, I always welcome long rambly reviews. I can't seem to wipe the goofy grin off my face when I get them from you, lol. Please feel free to ramble on, the longer the better!**

**PPS Emily, Rob and I have called it quits. Wanna know why? BECAUSE ADAM MADE OUT WITH A FAN AT A CONCERT LAST NIGHT. If he's opening up his preferences, I am getting in on THAT action, Rob be damned. On a weird note, Rob ran into Tommy's arms for comfort. Tommy knows all about this jealousy crap, because he had a breakdown when Adam kissed Ke$ha, so he's helping Rob deal with the pain of loss. I'll probably go back to Rob sooner or later, but hey, why hold back? Life is short, eh?**


	14. Swallow Your Pride

**Next chapter is here finally! Hope you all liked my little side story one-shot. I just had to get it out there. If you haven't read it, and you're in the mood for some happy smut after reading all the horribleness in this story, feel free to stroll on over and have a looksee. Anyway, on with the angst! There may be a…light at the end of this dark tunnel soon….**

**Cassie owns my two favorite boys and the fanger. The others are mine, ALL MINE!**

After finally getting off the phone with Clary, and explaining to her (with a very big lie) where he had been for the past…he didn't know how long, Simon called Isabelle. He wanted to see her, hold her. After seeing what he had seen, he felt that even eternal life could be short sometimes, and you couldn't take anything for granted.

She picked up after he left the third voicemail, and she sounded frantic. "Just come to Magnus' apartment. Now, Simon!" she pleaded in a shaky voice. He had run straight there and burst through the door to find Jace slumped on the floor next to the door and Izzy and Magnus sitting on the couch holding each other's hands and shedding unchecked tears. All three looked like complete wrecks.

"What's the matter with everybody?" he asked.

"Alec's gone," Jace said when the other two looked at a loss for their voices. "He's disappeared for two days now, and we can't find him. Magnus thinks he knows who took him, and it's incredibly bad."

"Who does he think took him?" Simon asked anxiously, praying it wasn't who he thought it might be.

"A vampire," Jace said with an accusatory look. "An evil bitch named Camille. She's a vindictive slut who will stop at nothing to hurt Magnus in the worst way possible. Those were his exact words by the way. He just won't tell us why."

Simon walked over to the couch and sat down next to Isabelle, putting his arm around her and giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go. He focused his attention on Magnus.

"Can I talk to you? In private. Just for a moment," he said.

Magnus didn't say anything. He just rose from his seat, letting go of Isabelle reluctantly. He walked back towards the bedroom, and Simon followed him, giving one last backward glance to Isabelle before walking in and closing the door behind him.

"Make it quick. I'm really not in the mood for deep conversation right now," Magnus said, pinching the bridge of his fine boned nose. For a moment, Simon was greatly reminded of the old Magnus, arguing with Camille about how stupid it would be to leave his position as Ardenian's apprentice. He was reminded of the hero worshipping tone Magnus used whenever he talked about him. He was counting on those feelings still being there.

"I know why you're so upset," he began.

"Well thank you Mr. Obvious. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that I'd be upset when the love of my life is missing," Magnus said in a dead voice, still not meeting his eyes.

"No, I mean I know why you are particularly worried about the vampire that took him. I know about you and Camille."

"Oh really?" Magnus asked without enthusiasm.

"Yes. Vanessa showed me."

At this, Magnus' head popped up and he looked at Simon for the first time since he had walked through the door. He seemed to search his eyes endlessly, trying to discern exactly what he had seen in the past. "What, exactly, did she show you?" he asked.

"I know that you and Camille were married. I know that she forced you to give up your future. I know that you were supposed to be High Warlock of Manhattan, after Ardenian Wintham. She held some damning information over your head so that you had to give in to her advances. You married her to keep Ardenian from being ashamed of you, even though he loved you like a son. You nearly got yourself killed fighting with Leopold Darkin to gain the position you have now, just so you could banish Camille and you and Vanessa could be together. You were miserable all your life with all those gorgeous women who threw themselves at you until you discovered you were actually gay somewhere in the 20s. And I know that Vanessa knows that Alec has irreversibly changed you for the better, and we all know that Camille absolutely _hates_ that and she will stop at nothing to get you back, including torturing and killing him."

At the end of his speech, Magnus was silent. He just stared at him. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he spoke. "Do you think I deserve this?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" Simon asked, puzzled at the look on his face.

"After seeing the choices I've made in my life, the materialistic heathen that I used to be, do you think I brought this current disaster on myself?" Simon was shocked that this was the conclusion Magnus had drawn.

"No! Of course not. Camille is a psychopath. I've seen that firsthand. Trust me, I understand that you didn't have much of a choice when it came to her. But you have to know that there's still hope. We can find Alec, if you try."

"I have tried! I can't even get a hold of myself long enough to get a tracking spell to work! I'm a complete, hopeless failure and Alec is going to die because of it!" Magnus was coming undone, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks again.

"But you can get help. You don't have to do this on your own. Ask him for help, Magnus. I know for a fact Ardenian still thinks very highly of you."

Magnus looked totally defeated. "I dishonored him. I brought shame upon myself for getting involved with someone like Camille, even though he forbade it. I acted like a complete ass and he will never forgive me. We haven't spoken in two hundred years. I wrote him a letter after I was inaugurated as High Warlock. He never answered, but that was answer enough."

"You don't understand, Magnus! He still respects you. I know it. He's just waiting for you to ask him yourself. He wants you to be a man and lay down your pride and your reservations. If you go to him and ask him in person, I _know_ he will help you." Simon was in Magnus' face now, pleading with him.

"It won't work. He hates me. He's completely ashamed of me. I'm not even allowed in Manhattan anymore except on business."

"Don't you think this is business enough? You're asking for his help as High Warlock. That's his job, isn't it? Come on, Magnus. I know we don't have much time. Swallow your pride and come on!" Simon grabbed his arm and hauled him out into the living room.

He turned to Izzy and Jace for a split second. "We're going to get help. I'll call you when we get it," Simon called, and the two of them rushed out the door.

* * *

When they reached an unfamiliar but immaculate stucco building on Park, Magnus stopped. "This is where he lives now," he said in explanation. "I don't know if I can do this. I honestly don't know if I can take it if he turns me down." He looked incredibly nervous, like Simon had never seen him before. He gave him a little nudge of encouragement, and Magnus rang the doorbell with a shaky hand.

It only took a few seconds for the door to swing open, revealing a slightly familiar face. The only thing that was different was the pallor of his skin, and his now shining gray eyes. Reynolds, no longer human, but a vampire. Ardenian must have liked him a lot to want to keep him around forever.

Reynolds took in the two visitors with an airy gaze. He settled on Magnus for a few moments, then slowly, his eyes grew wider and wider. He stared at the tired face of the warlock he hadn't seen in such a long time. He was at a loss for words. So was Magnus.

Reynolds nodded slowly and turned back into the house. Magnus' breathing had picked up, making him appear even more nervous than before. A few minutes later, a tall blond man with a dusting of blue scales approached the door carefully. Reynolds must have warned him who was waiting outside.

As soon as Ardenian reached the door, Magnus bowed his head as if it was an unconscious, automatic gesture. Simon figured it probably was. He had showed deference to this man for a good chunk of his life, and old habits died hard.

Ardenian reached out an electric blue hand and lifted Magnus' chin gently. Simon saw they both had tears on their cheeks. They stared at each other for a moment longer before Ardenian grabbed Magnus by the shoulders and pulled him into a fierce embrace. Magnus began to sob uncontrollably onto the older man's shoulder. Ardenian was crying too. Simon felt the need to look away from such an intimate moment, but he also felt gratified knowing he had finally forced them to see each other after so many years.

When they pulled apart, Magnus spoke first. "I…I need your help," he said through his tears, the memory of the situation at hand coming back to him.

"I know. Vanessa came to me. She left me this," Ardenian answered, a blue wad of cloth appearing in his right hand.

"Alec's sweater!" Magnus said in a whisper. "Can you…can you perform a tracking spell? I can't get it to work for me. I've lost control of my magic and I can't seem to get it back," Magnus said hopelessly.

"I can see that you are not in control of yourself, but don't beat yourself up about it. It's not entirely your fault. The tracking spell was extremely difficult to perform, because it involved getting through a significant amount of water."

"Water…but wait, you already did it? You know where Alec is?" Magnus' eyes showed the first hope they had dared to have in days.

"Yes. And we will go to him now, if you are able," Ardenian said in a fatherly tone. "You must control yourself, or you could hurt him. Worse than he may be hurt already."

"I understand. Can we go now? Alec could be dying!" he said earnestly.

Ardenian shuffled them inside. Simon texted Isabelle, telling her to get Clary to make a portal for them to meet where Ardenian said Alec and Camille were. Ardenian opened a portal in the middle of the foyer and the three of them stepped through it, coming into a large stone-walled room covered in mold and smelling like the bottom of a disease infested swamp.

It took half a second for them to take in the scene and for Ardenian to yell back at Simon. "Grab him! Don't let him go!" he yelled through Magnus' screaming and sobbing. Simon's vampire speed and strength barely got hold of Magnus before he had a chance to rush over to Alec's limp, bloody body, lying on the floor next to Vanessa, whose face was completely purple on the left side, her eyes closed.

**I'm stopping this chapter here, but I'm working on the next chapter right now. It'll be up extremely soon. I promise. Poor Magnus. Get control of yourself, or you'll hurt him. Ardenian told you so. **

**Please review! It makes my year!**


	15. He's Here Now

**K here's the next chapter! Hope you are enjoying this!**

**Cassie owns them except the ones you haven't heard of. Those are still mine.**

Simon could feel his skin being burned through his clothes. His shirt already probably had a huge gaping hole in it, the material scorched away. Nevertheless, he maintained his iron grip around Magnus' shoulders, even though the warlock was thrashing and scratching and burning him with his uncontrolled magic. Magnus' entire body was covered in blue flames as he tried to get loose from Simon's arms. Simon just told himself that he would heal eventually, and that things would be much worse if he let Magnus go right now.

He took in the scene of the room with disgust. Camille had been thorough, that's for sure. Vanessa was tied to a pole in the middle of the room, her face a big purple bruise. Her skull looked dented in where Camille had undoubtedly hit her across the temple. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. She would be ok. Alec was a different story.

Simon knew it would be bad when he had smelled blood the second Ardenian opened the portal. And Simon had smelled _a lot_ of blood. He now gazed at Alec's body, nearly unrecognizable. He lay sprawled on the floor wearing only his Shadowhunter gear pants. His bare chest was covered in blood and various gashes. It was absolutely barbaric. It was no wonder Magnus completely lost control of himself. If he ran to Alec now and touched him even slightly, Alec's human body would burn to ash, and Magnus wouldn't be able to help it.

Ardenian was kneeling over Alec, expensive white linen pants soaking up the pool of blood on the floor, bright electric blue flame emanating from his hands. He touched them to Alec's bloody chest gently. Alec didn't move. His chest didn't move up and down. Simon grew weary. Maybe they had been too late.

With his sensitive hearing Simon could pick up what Ardenian was saying, but it wasn't a language he knew. He was repeating some kind of incantation over and over, blue sparks still shooting into Alec at a controlled pace. After a few more minutes of this, Simon noticed Alec's body jerk very slightly, and his chest rise ever so slowly. It didn't go up much before it went back down. But then it came up again. Simon breathed an unnecessary sigh of relief, still keeping his hold on the wildly thrashing Magnus. At least he wasn't burning anymore.

All of a sudden, everyone grew quiet. Simon heard the faintest whisper, but even his intense hearing couldn't make it out. Ardenian spoke softly, looking into Alec's face.

"Can you hear me, son? Can you see anything?" he asked, looking him over again.

The whisper came a little stronger, but still extremely quiet. After a few more seconds it came again, and this time Simon heard it. A few seconds more, and it was strong enough for the warlock leaning over him. He was calling for Magnus, over and over.

"He's right here," Ardenian soothed. "He's standing over there." He pointed in their direction. Alec's face was still turned toward the far wall, where neither Simon nor Magnus could see it.

"I can't," Alec breathed. "I can't feel my body."

Ardenian reached down with a careful hand and gently turned Alec's face toward the doorway to the room, where Simon still kept his grip on Magnus.

"Oh, baby," Magnus gasped, beginning to sob again. Alec's face was so completely altered he was unrecognizable. The flesh was torn away in various places, leaving gaping wounds oozing blood all over the place. His lips were cracked and blue. Cuts and punctures littered his cheeks and forehead, and a long gash ran from his hairline across his right eye down to his chin, pulling the corner of his mouth down. The eye was half closed, but Simon could see it was sliced down the middle, completely red and staring glassily into space. The other eye searched for something in their direction. It finally locked on their forms. Magnus had gone back to burning Simon's flesh away, tearing at his hands to be let go.

"Stop," Alec breathed raggedly. Even Simon could barely hear him. Magnus' blue fire ceased abruptly. Alec closed both eyes again and lay still. Ardenian had gone back to trying to heal him.

Suddenly, Alec's face contorted in pain. Tears began rolling down his cheeks and he bit his lip hard. His body shook and jerked, and he cried out. Magnus was horrified.

"What are you doing to him?" he screamed.

"He's healing slowly, and now the feeling is coming back to his nerves. He's not numb anymore, and he feels the wounds. I'm sorry Alec, but it will pass soon, I promise," Ardenian said in a low soothing voice as he continued to work painfully. Alec's cries became whimpers after a while, and soon he was quiet again. Tears still tracked down his bloody, hacked up face. He began a coughing fit, but that quieted down after some help from Ardenian.

After what seemed like an eternity, Simon began to notice some of the smallest wounds closing up. Alec lay still, letting Ardenian work. He asked about the girl with the short brown hair, and Ardenian said she was here and she would be fine after he helped her, but right now Alec was the priority.

When Ardenian finally lifted his hands away from Alec, letting his blue sparks dissipate, Simon and Magnus were standing quietly, the warlock still locked in Simon's iron grip. Ardenian turned to them.

"If you can't control yourself, you'll burn him. He has a lot of my magic running through him right now, and I've stopped because his body won't be able to handle any more right now. So if you touch him, make sure you are in a completely neutral state. He's not entirely healed yet, but he's making progress. He's lost an incredible amount of blood."

Magnus just nodded. "I promise I won't hurt him. Just let me go to him, please," he pleaded with a defeated expression. Ardenian nodded to Simon, and he let go, already feeling the scorch marks on his body healing slowly.

Magnus walked over to Alec and knelt. He reached out his hand and Ardenian caught it, giving him a warning look. After ascertaining that Magnus was under control, albeit barely, he let go. Magnus' hand brushed Alec's hair back gingerly. He lightly ran his hands down Alec's chest, brushing against the now closed small scratches and punctures. Alec smiled slightly, as much as he could with his face so mutilated.

"I love you," he whispered in his hoarse voice. He coughed and winced. "I don't care what you did in the past. I will love you forever. Till my dying breath."

"Please don't talk about that right now, baby. I can't bear to think of you dying." Magnus leaned down and placed a light kiss on Alec's lips. "I will never lose you again. I promise."

Ardenian had moved over to Vanessa. Simon knelt beside her and held her hand firmly. He was genuinely concerned for her. She had become a close friend after they had seen so much together. After a few seconds of Ardenian's blue sparking touch, she stirred and lifted her head, wincing.

"Vanessa?" Simon said softly.

"Simon? How did you find us?" she asked with a wild look in her eyes. Her gaze finally landed on Ardenian and she smiled so big it looked like it hurt.

"You were very convincing, young lady."

"I thought you said you wouldn't help. That Magnus had to come to you himself," she said.

"He did," Ardenian answered, pointing over to the couple a foot away. Vanessa smiled for a second before growing weary again.

"Alec. Did he make it? He was really bad off when I got here. I tried to help him, I swear—" Simon cut her off.

"You did fine. And Alec will be ok eventually. He probably only held on because he had a friend here with him," he told her with a squeeze of her hand.

"No, you don't understand…what Camille made me do…it hurt him so bad. Worse than anything she did herself. Help me," she said, pulling at her bonds. Simon used his strength to rip through them and she ran over to Alec. "I'm so sorry, Alec. Forgive me please," she pleaded, holding his hand.

"It's ok. He's here now," Alec sighed quietly. He still appeared extremely weak, and he was still covered in blood.

Just then, Isabelle, Jace and Clary were hurled into the room. When they took in the scene before them, they all stood dumbfounded before Isabelle rushed to her brother's side.

"Careful with him, young lady. He's healing, but very slowly," Ardenian said.

"Who are you?" Jace asked, walking over to the little group.

"I'm his father, for all intents and purposes," Ardenian stated, nodding toward Magnus. Magnus looked at him with a look Simon couldn't explain except that it was surprised and appreciative.

"He never told us about you," Isabelle said.

"That's because I'm an ass, and he'd rather forget me. But I swear, from this day forward, I'm changing my ways. I'm lucky to have someone so worthy of the pride I take in him." He smiled at Magnus, who smiled back.

Magnus then turned back to Alec, who looked up at him with so much love in his eyes it was almost too much for the rest of the people in the room. "Can we go home now?" he asked softly.

Magnus gently slid his arms underneath Alec's body, lifting him slowly and carefully while Ardenian opened up another portal. On the other side, Simon could see a familiar gold and ivory parlor with huge white couches and a big bear rug.

**ALEC IS OK! Yayy! He's not completely healed yet, because it would take A LOT of magic to heal him all the way, and his poor human body can't take it. So it has to come in stages. **

**Did anyone notice a certain bitch missing from this scene? She's still out there, people…that should tell you something: this story isn't over yet!**

**Please review people! You make me get a big dorky grin every time! **


	16. Just Like You Wanted

**Cassie owns them…except the ones that I own…that makes sense, doesn't it?**

**Wow! Three updates in one day! Phew!**

Alec lay on a plush white couch that looked like it belonged in the palace at Versailles in the 1700s. The room surrounding him was equally gorgeous, done in ivory and gold. He was sure he'd never been here before in his life, but somehow the place looked familiar, like he was connected with it in some way that was unknown to him.

He was wearing black silk pajama pants that were slightly too long for him, and a white cotton t-shirt. The gear he'd been wearing had been burned. His hair was freshly washed, as was most of his body. It had been hard for Magnus to find a comfortable position for him so that he could cleanse his wounds, so he had settled for lying on a large four poster bed while Magnus had wiped each of his remaining cuts with a damp washcloth while Alec bit back his wince each time. The largest gash, the one all the way down his torso, was still a bit open and deep, though Ardenian had healed it somewhat. He had said that too much magic, even healing, would make his body even weaker. His complete healing would come in stages.

His left eye, the one that wasn't currently covered with a bandage and an eye patch, caught a familiar tall thin frame entering the room. Even though it hurt his cracked, dry lips, Alec smiled as big as he was able. Seeing Magnus would always brighten his day, no matter how dark it started out. He still didn't want to talk about what happened and the rest of them always looked at him with worried eyes as if he might explode or something. But seeing Magnus always made him forget his ordeal for a few fleeting moments.

The warlock sat down gingerly on the couch and ran a cautious finger across his mutilated cheek. Those wounds were taking the longest to heal for some reason.

"How are you feeling?" Magnus asked softly.

"Ok," Alec said. He knew it scared everyone when he barely talked, especially Magnus, but he just couldn't bring himself to utter more than a few syllables at a time. That, and his throat hurt really bad; he was nearly voiceless after all the screaming he had done.

"That's good," Magnus offered back, not knowing how to carry on a conversation with him. He could tell Magnus was scared to touch him, and that made him mad. He wanted to be held and loved, but Magnus always said it was way too soon. After all, it had only been about 16 hours since they had portaled into this enormous house.

"Where are we?" Alec asked for the first time since they had gotten there.

"This was my…Ardenian's home, a very long time ago," Magnus said, gazing around the room like he wasn't as amazed with it as Alec was. "I didn't know he kept it all these years. Someone told me he had moved away after…" His voice trailed off and he looked somber.

"What?" Alec asked in a whisper.

"Nothing. The past is the past. What matters now is that you get better," he said with a caress of Alec's arm.

"I saw you," Alec said suddenly. "With her. Camille."

Magnus looked like he might be extremely angry, or extremely upset. Tears began to pool in front of his exotic cat eyes.

"How could you love someone like her? She's evil."

"I _never_ loved her, Alec. Don't even think that for a second. And if I could take back the things you saw, take back the hundred years of my life that I wasted with her because of my own cowardice, I would. It haunted me every day until I met you," Magnus said, looking into Alec's uncovered eye with immense passion and longing.

"She must have loved you."

"She doesn't understand the concept of love. Love means giving yourself and your plans up, and becoming a different person. Love means always putting someone else's needs before your own. And love means that if that person decides he's better off somewhere else, then you let them go."

"That's how you know that Vanessa loved you, and not Camille." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Magnus answered.

Alec slowly moved his hand up to lace his fingers through the warlock's and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I think I'm going to sleep now."

"That's good. You need to rest."

"I love you. I don't care about the past. You're right, it doesn't matter."

"I love you too, Alexander. You are my whole world. I'm sorry." With a light kiss on Alec's forehead, Magnus rose and exited the room, shutting the door quietly. Alec winced and grunted as he shifted his position on the couch and felt the warmth of the roaring fire on his face. He felt comfortable, at home.

* * *

Magnus leaned against the other side of the door and rubbed his face in his hands. He looked like hell, and felt even worse. He hadn't washed his hair or put on makeup in days. But he didn't really care about that. His mind was occupied with the fact that his conversation with Alec was the first time he had said more than a syllable at a time since they had rescued him. And it just had to be about Camille. He wondered if she would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

He couldn't bear to see Alec like this, beaten and broken physically and mentally. It tore him up inside that he couldn't see through to the bright Alec Lightwood that had steadily grown to tease him just as much as he was teased. The Alec that was always up for Magnus' wild parties, never saying a word about the fact that he was a little anti-social and uncomfortable. This Alec was so dead inside that Magnus could barely stand it. And it was all his fault, for falling for Camille's stupid evil tricks.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you if you make a face like that, it'll freeze that way?" Ardenian said, startling Magnus a little.

"Nope."

"Well, maybe that's not true, but it does give you wrinkles," he said with a teasing smile. Then he grew serious. "He'll be ok, Magnus. He's recovering quicker than I expected, and I'll be able to treat him again tomorrow. This time next week he'll be as good as new." He placed a fatherly hand on Magnus' shoulder. The younger warlock looked at it for a second, then looked back at the blue scaled face.

"But he won't be ok. He's completely dead inside. It's like she sucked the life right out of him," Magnus said.

"Yes. I've noticed she has that effect on people, if given enough time," Ardenian said with a pointed look at Magnus. "But as you can see, it always comes back. It may take a few years, but he'll come back."

"But what about in the meantime? Are we supposed to live in fear that she'll come to fuck up our lives again? I can't make Alec stay home on the couch all the time. He's got a job, you know, and so do I."

"Well, that remains to be seen. We all have to be a little cautious now. She could be anywhere," Ardenian said.

"Or any time," came a small female voice. Vanessa walked in with a slightly startled look on her face. Both warlocks looked at her, puzzled.

"What do you mean, Nessa?" Magnus asked, coming to stand closer to her.

"I just checked my supply of dust. It's half gone. She must have taken it when I was passed out."

"But she can't just use it without you. She wouldn't have any control over where she went. She could end up in ancient Egypt or Rome. She wouldn't take that kind of risk," said Magnus.

"She might if she's trying to get away at any cost. If she knows that I'm involved. Why else would she take any of Vanessa's supply, and not kidnap Vanessa?" Ardenian asked.

"I don't know. But I don't like that fact that she's got a ton of dust and she can use it whenever she wants," said Magnus. He held out his hand. "Give me the rest, Nessa."

She drew back. "No! What do you even plan on doing with it?" she asked hesitantly.

"I plan on finishing Camille Minaldi for good. Now give it to me, damnit," he said, growing angry. He was losing time.

"Son, that is not wise." Ardenian had taken on his fatherly tone again. "You could end up somewhere and never be able to get back."

"He's right. Let me go with you, Magnus," Vanessa said, reaching into her pocket.

"No. I don't want to put anyone else's life in danger because of my ridiculous mistakes anymore. I'm doing this alone, whether you want me to or not. Neither of you two can stop me." He snapped his fingers and the rest of Vanessa's supply of lavender colored powder appeared in his hand. Ardenian's reflexes were quick. He grabbed Magnus by the throat before he could bring the powder to his mouth. But Magnus shot a current of flame through his body that shocked Ardenian and he flinched away, not coming back fast enough. Magnus threw the handful of dust into his mouth and closed his eyes as he was violently catapulted back in time.

He landed on a stone floor, possibly marble. His lip was bleeding and he would have thrown up if there was anything in his stomach. He slowly picked himself up, trying to work out the kinks in his muscles and discern where he was. It became immediately apparent that he was in a temple of some sort. Upon further inspection, it was obvious. He HAD ended up in ancient Rome.

Just as he was about to walk out into the valley, a sound caught his attention. It was a small gasp, like someone was crying. He looked around and saw a figure, crouched in a far corner of the open air temple, shaking slightly. He edged closer cautiously. The figure heard his approach and grew quiet. Magnus could make out shining eyes and brunette hair.

"How in the hell did you find me?" Camille asked through her tearless sobs. She was still huddled on the floor, obviously afraid.

"I came for you my dear," Magnus cooed. "I love you, and now that Alec is dead, we can be together. Just as you wanted, my lovely. Forever."

**DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN! Hope you liked it. Please review!**

**I want to take this opportunity to thank all my reviewers, old and new. I love that you guys follow me through all my stories, lemony and angsty. It means so much to me! I shed a little tear every time I get a review from someone who read my other stories when they were first written. It makes my heart soar! (yes, I'm cheesy like that!). Anyway, thank you all for being such big bags of awesomeness! And those of you who are authors yourselves, keep up the amazing work! Get up everyday and wrestle with the blank page; it will always be rewarding! Much love!**


	17. How's That for Burning Passion

**AHH! I know you hate me, so I'll spare you the usual long ass AN and just get on with it, since you've waited long enough. (BTW, to my credit, I was distracted by school, reading Clockwork Angel, and catching up on Supernatural before the new season starts on the 24****th****. So sue me lol)**

**Cassie owns them.**

**Also, you'll notice this chapter is a lot different from the others, and I'll explain why in the post-AN. Enjoy!**

My, he was gorgeous. His face all angular and brooding, his slick black hair hanging in his eyes, just like he always looked when they made love. She could only imagine how delicious he still tasted after all these years. Even though she was apprehensive to come near him, it was near agony for her to stand with so much distance between them.

For a century, she had longed for this moment. To have him all to herself once more. He was her entire world, and had been that way from the moment she laid eyes on him. This man was so deep and full of passion and she thrived on his energy, even though he had seemed to lose it somewhat near the end of their relationship. She chalked it up to him missing the comfort of Ardenian's mansion, and she had tried her best to make him see that life with her could be equally grand. She had made him every meal, served him unconditionally, made love to him each night however he wanted. She had been sure of his devotion based simply on the fact that he kept asking her for her service instead of ignoring her altogether.

But he had crushed her unbeating heart when he announced that they were to divorce, and she was to be banished. The realization had hit her like a ton of bricks that her vampire strength could not withstand. And to find out that it was all Vanessa's fault, the little slut. How very _Vanessa_ of her to seduce her own sister's husband like that. Camille had planned to torture her slowly once she found her, but she all of a sudden couldn't stand the sound of her voice anymore, so she knocked her out.

Alec, on the other hand, was a personal party for her. She just couldn't understand what Magnus saw in the weak little thing. His screams and cries for Magnus were like music to her ears, except it was almost unbearable to hear her love's name come from such unworthy lips. She was sure she had gotten all the blood she could manage out him and that he had died, and Magnus had just confirmed it. She couldn't be happier. She had come here to run from certain death at the hands of old Wintham (she hated him, but did not underestimate him), and it seemed complete fate that Magnus would rush to comfort her and find her in the exact time she had whisked off to. She knew it was their destiny to be together.

She looked up at him from about a foot away, longing to feel his lean muscles ripple in her grasp. Needing to feel his lips on hers once more, warming them and drawing out the frozen nothingness that had overtaken her when he kicked her out of his life. She fought to appear guarded, just in case it was a trick, though she couldn't imagine why he would be so mean to her after she so graciously eliminated the reason for their separation.

"Darling, are you sure that is what you want? You told me yourself that you loved the boy, but now you retract the sentiment?"

"Yes. I only had to keep up appearances, you see. I am very intertwined with his family, and they would all come after me if I openly acknowledged my feelings for you over him. But I do want you, Camille. You're the only one," he said with a deep look in his eyes that she interpreted as passion. The way her name rolled off his lips was just as it had been in the 19th century: smooth and liquid and irresistible. It nearly weakened her knees each time she heard it.

"And you are the only one for me, my dear Bane. I have loved you endlessly, even through your troubles with what you thought you wanted in life. Unlike my conniving whore of a sister, I have not given up. My time away was spent dreaming of ways to be reunited with you, because I love you. She never loved you, Magnus. Can you see that now? She let you slip away from her too easily."

"Yes, I see. But we are together now, here, alone. We are free to be with each other again, without the interference of others who do not know what we are about." His voice was almost hypnotic. She walked closer to her long lost love, desperately needing to feel his touch.

When she was about 6 inches from him, he reached up with his right hand and caressed her face gently. She nearly swooned. His skin was always so warm, and even more to her frigid body. He let a lick of blue flame jut out from his fingers and brush on her cheek. This was what she loved most, when he let his guard down and allowed his nature to shine through. It solidified the fact that they were both _other_, and therefore belonged together. The heat singed her cold cheek momentarily, but it was not at all unpleasant. It only served to ignite the fire inside her.

"It's been so long since I've felt your skin," he crooned softly. "It's almost too much to bear." He started breathing heavily and began to back away slightly, but she caught his hand in hers, still resting on her cheek.

"Please, don't turn away from me. I've waited so long for you to touch me again, I couldn't stand it if you backed away now," she pleaded, letting all her emotions fill her voice. He looked stricken by her tone, and she immediately felt bad for having scared him. She vowed not to spoil their reunion with her uncontrolled yearning, even though he seemed possessed by the same emotion.

"I…I just…need a moment," he stuttered. She remembered his uneasy tone fondly, it was the one he used when they hadn't made love in days, and he was growing restless with desire. She let him back up a few inches. He reached into his breast pocket and drew out a silver flask with a jeweled M on the front. It suited him nicely, she thought. Regal and elegant and always beaming who he was for the world to see.

She gave him a playfully accusing look as he took a swig from the flask. "Don't worry, dear. I'm not repeating the 20s again. It's just water," he said with a weak smile before taking another long draw from the flask and putting it back in his pocket. His lips were set in a thin line, like he was holding back something incredible. Perhaps sighing or screaming her name. She could relate.

Finally, she couldn't hold back any longer. "Please, Magnus. Touch me. Kiss me. I need you, your warmth, on my body. I've waited long enough." When he said nothing, simply looked at her and nodded, she closed the distance between them once again. He was gazing into her eyes with immense anticipation, like he couldn't wait to feel her lips on his just as bad as she wanted it too. She slowly leaned in and up towards his beautiful face, letting her breath wash over him.

She then took his hand, squeezed it gently, and sighed. Then she sealed their lips together for the first time in over a century.

She couldn't describe what it felt like to have him back. She could hardly contain herself to keep the kiss close-lipped. She longed to feel his tongue gliding against hers. Oh, the things he could do with that tongue. She shivered and sighed. He must have been thinking the same thing she had been, because when her lips parted in that sigh, his did also, and his burning tongue was thrust into her waiting mouth.

But it was too hot. It burned too much. It wasn't at all the pleasant burn she expected, had dreamed about for a hundred years. She could feel the burn on every surface inside her mouth, could feel it beginning to slip down her throat. She was completely caught off guard. When she looked up, she knew it wasn't his tongue, because he was now standing a few feet away, looking at her with disgust as she began to cough uncontrollably.

It burned so much, she would have cried if it was possible. Her throat was on fire, and she could feel it slipping deeper into the pit of her stomach.

"How's that for burning passion?" Magnus said wickedly. "Whiskey is usually my drink of choice in times of distress, but this time, I figured a little holy water would be more appropriate, don't you think?"

She looked at him in horror. She couldn't believe it. How could he have done this to her? She thought he loved her! She wanted to scream all this at him, but she couldn't form the words in her fiery throat. She could feel the lining of her mouth and throat being burned away by the blessed liquid. All she could do was stare at him in complete terror and betrayal as she dropped to her knees and started coughing up blood. She clutched at her face and throat. The burn was eating through her chest now. Soon, it would course through all her veins and she would die. She couldn't believe that he had betrayed her like this.

With her eyes, she tried to convey her feelings as she slowly felt her insides scorched throughout. She was now lying on the ground, writhing in pain, while he stood over her like a master of torture with the grin of Lucifer on his face. The last glimpse she had of the one man she had ever really loved was of his face, high above her, smiling with so much satisfaction, his pearly white teeth glistening in the setting sun.

Magnus stared at the smoldering pile that was Camille, and gave a relieved sigh. He had waited way too long to do this, he thought. He could have ended this so long ago, could have saved Alec from the torture he had endured for days, if he would have just manned up and killed her when he had the chance. Instead, he had put faith in one of Leopold's stupid spells, and look what had become of it. He felt like a complete failure, and he only had himself to blame.

He thought of haunting the streets of Rome forever, just to punish himself. But he knew he wasn't that strong, knew he couldn't stay away from Alec knowing he was still in such bad shape (because of him). He sighed and reached over to Camille's body, digging in her pocket. In a stroke of luck, she hadn't used all the dust she had stolen from Vanessa. He took a deep breath and downed the handful of lavender powder, thinking of Alec and home in Manhattan.

When the nausea dissipated, he grew concerned. He had not arrived back in 2010, that was for sure. He looked around and tried to discern how far the little bit of dust had gotten him. After a few minutes of searching his field of vision, it made sense. He had almost made it back, just not quite. He sighed and began the long walk to the only place he could think of at this point in time.

**Well there you have it folks. The wicked bitch is dead! I wanted to do this chapter mostly in her POV for two reasons: 1) so you wouldn't know what Magnus was planning the whole time (the spitting holy water into her mouth and such) and 2) I wanted to show you a bit of her fucked up psyche. She sincerely believed that he loved her. That's why he was able to coax her into kissing him while he had a mouth full of holy water. Sneaky, eh? If you think about it, her interpretations of his expressions are so far off base its funny. Plus I wanted to show how friggin' deranged she was. And Magnus will be ok where he is for now. He's just kinda stuck in a slightly sticky situation, but nothing he can't handle. They **_**did**_** warn him about using the dust without Vanessa, you know.**

**Ok, I have to share my stupidity with the world. While I'm at school, I live in a little town in west Texas. Nothing exciting happens here. Not really. If you like Texas Country music, then you're in heaven. But what if you like hot, brooding celebs who's names rhyme with Hobbert Rattinson? Yes, folks. FUCKING ROBERT PATTINSON was in my little ass town last night TWO BLOCKS AWAY at a bar. No, folks. I did not get to see him, because I heard about it on campus THIS MORNING. It was also all over facebook. It's a cruel cruel cruel world. SSSSSSIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH. FML.**


	18. The Cleavers of Downworld

**Yes. Please put down the pitchforks. I know it's been two months. My soul was just attached to Flow of Power way to strongly to even think about this fic. It's almost done, btw (actually, FoP and this one are both nearing an end). Hopefully you've enjoyed the ride. There are one or two more chaps left in FoP, and maybe a couple more to this one. I just didn't want to abruptly stop after Camille died. You really need to tie things up, don't you?**

**Cassandra Clare owns my wonderful boys. The ones you've never heard of before this story are still mine. ALL MINE!**

**Just to refresh your memory (since its been like a Magnus-lifetime since I updated this...hehe):**

_He thought of haunting the streets of Rome forever, just to punish himself. But he knew he wasn't that strong, knew he couldn't stay away from Alec knowing he was still in such bad shape (because of him). He sighed and reached over to Camille's body, digging in her pocket. In a stroke of luck, she hadn't used all the dust she had stolen from Vanessa. He took a deep breath and downed the handful of lavender powder, thinking of Alec and home in Manhattan._

_When the nausea dissipated, he grew concerned. He had not arrived back in 2010, that was for sure. He looked around and tried to discern how far the little bit of dust had gotten him. After a few minutes of searching his field of vision, it made sense. He had almost made it back, just not quite. He sighed and began the long walk to the only place he could think of at this point in time._

* * *

Alec lay on the plush couch, staring ahead into nothingness. He had awoken about 10 minutes earlier and, remembering that Magnus had left him to sleep, wanted to know how long it had been since he had last seen his beloved warlock.

He was still rattled, understandably, from the whole ordeal with Camille. He had never known he could endure so much and still live to tell about it. Well, technically he had help from the scary blue scaled warlock, but still. As Alec moved to sit up, he thought about the exchanges he had witnessed so far between the two powerful warlocks.

Ardenian seemed a million years old. Even though he only looked about 30, he exuded age and wisdom. He was still a little off-putting, nonetheless. It was apparent that he was extremely powerful, possibly the most powerful warlock Alec had ever met, including Magnus. And Magnus seemed to worship him, in his way. Every time Ardenian entered the room, Magnus bowed his head in respect. Alec couldn't understand this, since Ardenian had introduced himself as Magnus' father. But that couldn't be right either, since Magnus' father was a demon. Alec's head spun.

It was clear that Ardenian had somewhat raised Magnus. Then it struck him. This was the warlock that Magnus always spoke of with vague longing. He had never mentioned the man's name, or any kind of description, but instantly Alec knew this was him. The way Magnus spoke very respectfully to him, even though Alec knew Magnus to be quite snide with most authority figures, including those from the Clave. It was clear that Magnus loved this man as a father, biological or not. This was the man who had taught him his skills with his power.

Scooting to the edge of the couch, Alec attempted to stand. He made it about halfway up before he was too dizzy to see and he sat back down. His wounds weren't entirely healed, and his eye was still covered with a patch. Ardenian had made a comment about him possibly never getting sight back in that eye, since it was damaged so badly. Alec had come to terms with this, but he vowed that his first request when this was all over would be for a glass eye. He was _not_ going to walk around like a pirate for the rest of his life.

He gave standing another try. This time, he made it all the way up, swaying a bit but then righting himself. He took a tentative step forward onto the enormous black bear rug, the only thing that wasn't a shade of ivory or gold in the entire room. He felt the plush fur under his feet, and took another step. After discerning that he was okay to walk around, he made his way to the door that everyone had been coming in and out of.

Stepping out into the hallway, he looked to either side. It seemed to go on for miles in both directions. He had a feeling that this place was magically bigger on the inside compared to what it looked like outside. He hadn't seen the outside, but they had mentioned it was on 5th Avenue. There was no way a house this big was nestled on that street without some magic being involved.

He chose to go left, because he happened to hear sounds coming from that direction. He heard the crackle of a fireplace and a low mumbling. He ventured forth, barefooted and clothed in the makeshift pajamas they had dressed him in. He followed the crackling sound down the hall, the mumbling getting louder, but still hushed. He passed many doors, each made of thick, heavy wood carved with all manner of Norse gods and demons. The only door in the entire hallway that emitted a small strip of glowing witchlight from a one inch crack was also the one the mumbling came from.

Alec came to a stop in front of it, and considered knocking. He didn't want to startle whoever was in this room. But he ended up being a little startled himself.

"Come in dear boy," he heard from inside. The voice was low and kind. He pushed the door open all the way and took in the room. He was in awe again, much like he was the first time he really looked at the parlor. This room, however, bore no traces of ivory or gold. It was all black and vivid royal blue. The walls were adorned with more god carvings, these made of an onyx wood that gleamed with an intense shine. The rug in the middle of the room was again the only thing out of the color scheme. It was a Siberian tiger, the eyes staring him down as he stepped through the door.

The walls were painted royal blue, the kind that your eye seemed to sink into. His gaze roamed about the room, taking in the enormous bookcases filled with all kinds of ancient volumes, the statues and busts of people he didn't know, and shelves full of various vials of potions and concoctions, until it finally came to rest on the man with the long blond hair and vivid blue scales seated behind an onyx wood desk.

"You look a bit tired, but otherwise better. How do you feel?" he asked.

"I feel like I've been put through a meat grinder. But that's nothing compared to what it was like before. Thank you, by the way."

"For what, dear boy?" Ardenian asked. Alec looked at him, puzzled.

"For healing me, of course. You don't even know me," he replied.

"Oh, yes. Yes I do." When Alec waited for more and got nothing, he took it upon himself to ask.

"How?"

"I've watched you from afar for a short while now. I consider myself a good judge of character. My intuition has never steered me wrong. The first time I laid eyes on you, it was also the first time in almost 200 years that I had seen Magnus." He fell silent for a short time, seeming very far off. His expression was a contradiction: painful memories mixed with relief.

"The last time I had seen him, he looked so goddamn defeated and dead that I couldn't bear to look at him. I kicked him out of my house, because I was convinced that the man standing before me was not the boy who had grown so much in my care. He had given himself over to a horrible woman who sucked the life I loved right out of him.

"The day I saw the two of you together was about 6 months ago. I was in Brooklyn visiting a friend, and I was doing my best to avoid walking by Magnus' home. I happened upon a small coffee shop and by chance glanced in the window. What I saw made me weep."

Alec had moved to one of the chairs across from the desk and was listening with rapt attention. At Ardenian's pause, he wondered what he could have seen that was so horrible as to make this centuries-year-old warlock weep. He didn't dare say a word for fear that the older man wouldn't finish his story.

"I caught sight of a couple at a corner table close to the window. They were on neighboring sides of the table, and the one closest to me was facing away from the glass, blocking the other."

Alec thought. Magnus always liked to face the window so he could watch the passersby, and Alec always sat facing away from the window so his attention was focused on Magnus (the way Magnus liked it). It never failed that after a few minutes of conversation, they both forgot all about the people on the other side of the glass.

"What I could see, though, was remarkable. They were holding hands underneath the table, and were clearly laughing. Their feet were unmoving, but intertwined. They were only touching in the most nondescript of places, but it looked for all the world that wherever they touched, life flowed between them. Like one would be a little more faded without the other, and vice versa.

"Then, the one facing away from me leaned back in his chair, and I saw it. Something I didn't think I'd ever see again in my life. Magnus was laughing. He had tears running down his cheeks, and he looked like he might keel over. Then you leaned back up and I couldn't see his face anymore. I nearly sighed in agony. That expression on his face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"I stood transfixed. Not a minute later, you two got up to leave. I retreated around the corner, for fear of him seeing me. I watched from afar as both of you exited the café, hand in hand. The expression on his face had changed. He now looked like he was looking at the reason for life on earth. Like he had found the secret to life's greatest happiness. And he was looking at you. I could have been standing right in front him and he wouldn't have noticed. He looked so unbelievably happy, and that day ended up being the single happiest day of my eternal life.

"His face was so drastically different from the last time I'd seen him that I had to convince myself that yes, it really was him. I went straight home after that, forgetting all about my friend. I sat down at this desk and I must have written a thousand letters, trying to convey my happiness and asking if he would forgive me for the past, if we could begin anew. Just so I could be in his presence when he had that look on his face again. But alas, I am a coward when it comes to emotions. So the letters went unsent, and he went on thinking I despised him. I'll never forgive myself for letting him walk out of his home that day so long ago, because I missed out on many, many years that I can never get back with the only man I've ever loved as my own son."

At the end of his speech, the old warlock leaned back in his chair and admired Alec more closely. Alec felt a little weird under such an intense gaze, but Ardenian smiled warmly at him, and that put him at ease.

"I can see what he sees in you. You are just what he needs. He loves being the center of attention, and you definitely give that him. But also, you have a life about you that draws the eye. I can imagine Magnus, with his quick and all-or-nothing heart, was enraptured with you the first time he laid eyes on you."

Alec blushed. "I guess you could say that. He was pretty relentless at first, and I was kind of apprehensive. But after a while he started to intrigue me more and more. The rest, as they say, is history. I can't imagine not being with him. I don't know how I did it before. I didn't know how lonely I was until he walked into my life. He gives me life, and not just in the magical healing sense. He's literally my reason for living. His face is the only thing that kept me going through…Camille's little game." He fought to put the experience out of his thoughts.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that lucky doesn't even begin to describe you two finding each other. Soul mates are one in a billion, and you seemed to have stumbled upon yours." He smiled again. Alec still had a million questions about Camille and their history, but he decided that those could wait. All this talk of Magnus and their love for each other made him physically ache for him. He wanted to feel slender arms around his waist and warm cinnamon scented breath on his face.

"Where is he right now?" Alec asked. At Ardenian's slightly fearful expression, Alec immediately sat up. "What's the matter? Where is he?" He began to panic internally.

"He's fine. He's just, stepped out for the moment." He was lying.

"Tell me," Alec said in a low, authoritative tone. Then he backpedaled. "Please," he added in a softer voice.

Ardenian sighed. "He went after Camille." At Alec's coming protest, he went on, "He'll be fine. After what she's done to him in the past two centuries, I imagine he will have some trick up his sleeve to make her pay for what she's done. Don't worry, Shadowhunter. He will return."

* * *

As Magnus made his way through the familiar streets of Brooklyn, he passed by his future loft. In the current year (as far as he had discerned it…he knew the decade at least), the suit factory had been closed for about 15 years. It would be about 20 more before he actually moved in, somewhere in the 70s. He remembered his short lived obsession with the Runaways back then. There was just something about 15 year old girls wailing about going to juvie and loving it that he found irresistible. It was the novelty of it, he guessed.

He pulled himself out of his reverie and continued on his journey until he came to the small townhouse decorated with yellow asbestos siding and white trim. He knew this house well back then, and he hoped it wouldn't freak out the occupants that he was showing up unexpectedly. He knew the rules of time travel. You shouldn't be seen by those who knew you in time you traveled to. It was unnatural, and it was discouraged. But he did hope he could bend the rules this once.

He strolled up the steps at a leisurely pace, gathering his thoughts. The white paint on the wooden front door glistened in the light of the street lamps. He knocked three times lightly, knowing he didn't need to make too much noise. The lady of the house would hear him.

Sure enough, the door swung open three seconds later and a familiar bubbly blonde vampire appeared in the doorway. At first she had a big smile on her face, then her expression grew incredibly puzzled. Magnus took the chance to speak, knowing her well enough to know that once she started, he wouldn't get a word in edgewise. It was one of her endearing qualities.

"Hello, Alicia. How are you? Is Billy home?" he asked in a cordial voice, unnerved by her confused stare.

"Of course he is. You just spoke to him, Magnus. What on earth…?"

"Uh, yea sure I did. Sorry I need to ask him something else," Magnus went on haphazardly.

"You were just here. Not five minutes ago. But now you're dressed differently, and your hair is fixed. There is _no way_ the Magnus Bane _I_ know went home and changed and fixed his hair _that_ fast. It always takes over an hour," she said with a smirk peeking through her confused expression. "But then again, the Magnus _I _know would have never ventured out in public wearing jeans and a t-shirt and without his hair greased. That's just not you. You're all messed up tonight, Magnus."

Magnus knew the date immediately then. It was April 28, 1957. The night that James broke up with him. He had been heartbroken and distraught and had walked all the way to Billy and Alicia's house in the dark and cried to Alicia about how cruel the world was and how he would never be happy again and no one would ever love him and his life was _over_! He chuckled to himself. _I sure can be juvenile sometimes, _he thought. Little did he know the love of his life wasn't even born yet. Although, James had been a handsome young thing in his letterman sweater. He had gorgeous blue eyes. Hmm. Magnus noticed a pattern…

"Well come on in, sugar. I'll get him back in here again. He's locked himself up in his office again, experimenting. I swear that man will blow himself up one day and then I'll be eternally alone." She didn't sound like she really thought it was a possibility; she was smiling and no doubt thinking endearingly of her husband.

"Actually, that's good. I need to ask him about a particular potion and he'll probably need to look it up, so I'll just meet him up there," he said as he made his way toward the stairs. He knew Billy wouldn't have to look it up. He knew his books forward and backward, because he was always experimenting with new potions. He needed information about ingredients all the time and he had always figured it better to already have them memorized.

"Oh, alright dear. Go on up, and I'll make you boys some coffee," Alicia twitted. She scurried off to the kitchen to turn on the Mr. Coffee they had gotten last year. If her husband was always wanting to invent new potions, Alicia was always buying the newest contraptions that came out as soon as they went on the market. As he ascended the stairs, Magnus looked back at her. She looked adorable in her blue gingham dress belted at the waist. She wore white patent leather heels and no stockings. Being a vampire, her skin was flawless, so she had no need; however, it was still a bit scandalous in that day. Her hair was the only thing she liked in an earlier style. Her blonde locks were pulled up into the victory rolls the women wore during the previous decade. He chalked it up to her nostalgia for her human life.

When he made it up the stairs, he knocked twice on the door he knew held Billy's office. "Yea!" Billy called, probably thinking it was his wife. Magnus took this as his cue to enter.

The office was riddled with all manner of vials and magical objects; ingredients for various potions littered the desk in the middle of the room. Standing behind it was a stocky redheaded warlock with freckles and a tiger's tail protruding from beneath his untucked shirt. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and Magnus could see the faint black stripes that lined his forearms. If one looked very fast, and ignored the tail, he could be mistaken for a Shadowhunter.

Billy looked up from his latest experiment and had a reaction very close to his wife's. His confusion mirrored hers, but his lasted a lot less time. He just shrugged, muttered something about primping and moving on, and beckoned him in.

"What you working on this time, Billy?" Magnus asked as he came closer.

"A potion for a client to give his wife. He wants her to tell him whether she knows he's screwing his secretary or not." He said it with all the nonchalance one might use discussing the weather.

"Gotta pay the bills somehow, I guess, eh?" Magnus quipped. Billy chuckled and went back to his work. Magnus was momentarily hit with a thought that had never occurred to him, not even back then. Alicia was a vampire, and Billy was a warlock. They had been married about 5 years, and they were the happiest couple Magnus had ever met. He mentally compared his own warlock-vampire marriage, and cringed at the difference. He pushed the thought out of his mind.

"What can I do for you? Are you going to try to talk me into another love potion?" Billy asked with a mocking smile. Magnus had come to him asking if he could brew something to give James a headache when he wasn't near Magnus, thinking it would bring him back. He laughed at his own stupidity. He thought about the fact that Billy, in actual years, was only about 35, whereas Magnus was nearly 800, and yet Magnus came to him for the more rare potion and spell needs. Magnus was infinitely less open to experimentation when it came to new spells and the like; he let Billy take his chances.

"No, not at all. Actually, I was wondering if you'd ever made up a potion or spell for time travel." Magnus said it carefully, nonchalantly. He waited for Billy's answering incredulity.

He was surprised, however. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"

"You mean, you've tried one and it's worked?" Magnus asked, hopeful.

"Sure. Alicia likes to visit her friend from the base in Hawaii sometimes. I think it's foolish and sad, but she gets in her moods and she just _has_ to see her." He had a slightly saddened expression.

"But wait. Does it only take you there for a short time? Do the effects wear off after a while?" Magnus couldn't take it and then have himself vanish back to the 50s after a couple of days.

"No, it's permanent. That's the only way I could get it to work. You have to bring a vial of the reversal potion with you to come back to the present," Billy explained, still jotting down variations of incantations in his journal.

Magnus was overjoyed at his luck. He absolutely loved Billy and Alicia. He made a mental note to visit them when he got back to 2010. They had moved out of Brooklyn and settled down in upstate New York where Alicia could hunt the plentiful wildlife.

"Can you spare some for me? I need to go forward about 50 years."

"Why on earth do you want to go forward? Ain't no time like the present, I always say."

"Oh, you know. I want to see if I win the lottery. If Liz Taylor is still a smokin' siren. The same things everyone wants to know," he joked. He knew the Elizabeth Taylor thing would get him. _Giant_ was Billy's favorite movie at the time.

"Sure thing, buddy. Lemme hunt it up for ya," Billy said, leaving his journal on the desk and hunting through his various shelves for the right vials.

Magnus left an hour later after a cup of the best coffee and a heartfelt goodbye from the cute couple. They were _so_ the Cleavers. Well, the Cleavers of Downworld, anyway. Magnus chuckled to himself as he strode down the block in search of a private spot where he could take the potion and find his way back to Alec.

He rounded a corner into a deserted alley and opened the vial, downing the contents. He was immediately overcome with the feeling of weightlessness, and he felt as if he was drifting forward. His surroundings faded to black then into pictures of the years he was passing through. He saw the Civil Rights movement, the Vietnam War, the Sex Pistols, Elvis' death, Duran Duran, Pearl Jam, Kurt Cobain's death, and 9/11. Finally, a few seconds later, he arrived in what he had been trying to picture in his head: the foyer of Ardenian's 5th Avenue penthouse.

He breathed a sigh of relief. It was really over. Camille was never coming back, and Alec was going to get better. They would be together, happy. And he and Ardenian had patched their relationship. He didn't think life could get any better than this.

**Honestly, depending on the way you look at it, he could be wrong. It can get better. I'll let that little thought boil around in your mind as you wonder what in the hell could possibly come next in this story, with it being so near the end. I promise, it's almost over.**

**On a side note, do you want to know more about Alicia and Billy? They are one of my favorite little creations; sometimes I like them better than Vanessa. They have their own backstory and everything. Just PM me if you want the little oneshot that tells their story. I'll DocX it to you.**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. The only way to let me know is to REVIEW! **


	19. My Favorite Position

**Ok folks. No long A/N above this time. I'm just gonna get right to it. I just updated FoP if you're interested…**

**Cassie owns them! Except for the ones you've never heard of before this story. Teehee!**

Alexander Lightwood questioned the sanity of the warlock across from him. He had asked him as many times as time permitted if this was really what he wanted. The old warlock said as many times as Alec asked that yes, it was exactly what he wanted. The only thing that made the Shadowhunter the slightest bit at ease was the serene look on the High Warlock's face. Alec was about to question him one more time, but they were interrupted.

"Alec? Ardenian?"

Alec started at the sound coming from somewhere in the house. He knew that voice. It was the sweetest music to his ears. Ardenian, still seated at the desk across from him, got up and waved him on. Alec jumped out of his seat, sure he would regret it later, since he was still a little banged up. But for now, all he wanted was to be in Magnus' arms.

He went as fast as his sore muscles would allow down the hall and downstairs to the foyer, where his name was still being called. Magnus met him halfway up the stairs and Alec practically knocked him over. Magnus couldn't have cared less, though. He hugged Alec tightly until he felt Alec wince a bit. Alec chastised himself for being so weak.

Magnus saw his face as he did this internally. "Don't, Alec. You've been through a lot. I should be more careful with you for a while," he said softly, caressing Alec's face. Alec leaned into the touch before they both turned to see Ardenian at the top of the stairs. He gave them a warm smile.

"See, young Shadowhunter? I have well-based faith in this fine specimen of Lilith. I said he would return, didn't I?" Alec nodded and smiled back.

"Were you worried about me?" Magnus asked, looking a little ashamed.

"Yes, but only because you weren't there when I woke up. But Ardenian said you'd gone after Camille, and as much as I hated to admit it, someone had to take care of her. And I'm glad it was you. Does revenge taste as good as they say?" he asked with a smirk.

"You have _no_ idea, love," Magnus replied. Alec didn't really want to know the gory details. He was just glad that he could read Magnus' face and know that Camille was never coming back.

"I hate to break up the reunion," Ardenian said with a stern glare taking over his features. "But you and I have business to discuss, Bane."

Magnus gave Alec a puzzled look, but Alec just kissed him lightly on the cheek and unhinged himself from the warlock's grasp. With one final squeeze of his hand, Alec walked down the stairs and into first floor sitting room, leaving the two ancient warlocks to their business.

He came into the room, plopped down on a ridiculously comfy couch, and surveyed the room with a keen eye. He liked it, he decided.

Magnus watched as the love of his life strode down the stairs and into the sitting room. He tried not to show his sadness when he looked at him and saw the patch still in place.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to save the eye," Ardenian said softly. Magnus looked back up at him, and he still had the stern look, softened a bit by the subject of his last statement. "He's an amazing boy, Magnus."

"Don't let him hear you call him that," Magnus chuckled. "He's perfectly legal, you know. I got over my predilection for jailbait a while ago."

"Quit making jokes, Bane. I know you too well. It's how you deflect when there are more serious matters at hand," Wintham said with a cool gaze. Magnus was caught. "Come," the older warlock said, and he turned away to make his way down the hall. Magnus followed.

They walked into his office. Magnus hadn't seen this room in two centuries. He wasn't prepared for the onslaught of sadness that overtook him. For a large chunk of his life, he had envisioned this office being his someday. He was deeply regretful that it would never happen now. He had made way too many bad decisions. He told himself he was lucky the old man was still speaking to him, much less helping him heal his boyfriend.

"What did you want to speak to me about, sir?" he asked tentatively.

"Do you enjoy it? Brooklyn, I mean." Ardenian spoke with an air tinged with the slightest bit of revulsion, the way one might speak of the rat problem in one's basement.

"As you know, it wasn't my life's intention, but I have made a name for myself there. And I'm respected enough. I think it's safe to say I've buried the reputation of the previous holder of the office there." He sneered inwardly at the thought of Leopold. The past was the past.

"Do you honestly think you'll be happy there for the rest of your days?" Magnus knew the gravity of the question he was asking. He meant eternity.

"If I am as happy as I am now, then yes. I believe I will be." He chose not the think of the day when Alec was old and gray. Those feelings would have to be dealt with when the time came.

"And you have no…immediate intentions to relocate?" Ardenian still hadn't looked him in the eye since they had stepped into the office. He just sat behind his desk, shuffling papers that Magnus couldn't read from where he sat.

"No, sir. I enjoy my position there. You trained me to be a High Warlock, and I am happy to serve in that regard." Magnus didn't know where this was going. He had long ago given up trying to decipher Ardenian's motives for anything. He trusted the man wholly.

"I didn't ask if you wanted to give up your position, Magnus," Ardenian chastised, like he did when Magnus was younger. "I asked if you liked living in Brooklyn."

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand."

"I'm going to be frank with you, my boy. I am getting on in years. While this doesn't mean the same thing to us as it does to humans, I find my days are growing longer and my temper is growing short. I think I've had enough of this city for the time being. I'm leaving, and going back to Sweden. I haven't visited my homeland in over eight centuries. I do wonder how it looks today."

Magnus just looked at the older man, puzzled. He didn't speak.

"That being said, I can't possibly uphold my duties as High Warlock here in Manhattan while I reside there. And I do plan to reside there for a good many years to come." He paused, then went on. "I've informed the Council of Lilith that I am resigning my position, and they have informed me that I must choose a successor. Now, normally the title would go directly to my apprentice, but I haven't had an apprentice in nearly two centuries."

Magnus still hadn't said a word, and Ardenian still hadn't met his eyes.

"Obviously, this presents a problem. The one most qualified for the job is employed elsewhere. I told the Council as much. However, I did ask them if they would make some negotiations in the rules governing the regions of our fair city." At this moment, the old man looked right into Magnus' piercing cat-eyes.

"They agreed. As did the Nephilim Consul. Technically, I will not name a successor. Control of my region will fall to the highest officer of the neighboring region."

Magnus was still at a loss for words. He wasn't sure his brain was working right. Ardenian chose to elaborate.

"However, I'm going to think of it as upholding tradition. I am, in the end, naming my apprentice as my successor. And you, Magnus Bane, will be High Warlock of Manhattan, while also retaining your title in Brooklyn. And you are free to live wherever you please, though I had hoped you would choose to remain here, in your rightful home."

Magnus' jaw couldn't drop any lower. Ardenian waited for the onslaught of chatter that was inherently _Magnus_, but it never came. All that gave away Magnus' thoughts was a single tear that escaped down his left cheek, before he leaped up and around the desk and engulfed the old man in the tightest embrace they had shared in many, many years.

When Magnus made it back down to the first floor sitting room, he noticed Alec appraising the décor. "Did you know?" Magnus asked. Alec just smiled. This was a big house for just the two of them, but that didn't matter in the least.

**5 Years Later**

"Honestly, Magnus, you don't have to be so mean," Alec chastised. This was the third client Magnus had slammed the door on that day, and he didn't think any of them deserved it. He could hear the yelling all the way upstairs.

"Really, Alec? _I'm_ being mean? Serves them right for interrupting," he said with a purr, climbing back on top of a naked Alec on the couch in the parlor. The Shadowhunter's rebuke was stifled by the warlock's mouth capturing his lower lip and nibbling playfully.

"But Magnus, it _is_ your job, you know," Alec said when Magnus finally released him. Once again, the warlock responded by crushing their lips together, effectively silencing the lecture.

"Right now, my job is to make you come, loverboy," Magnus whispered against his lips, causing the Shadowhunter to shiver all the way down to his toes, despite the roaring fire 5 feet away. It was unnerving, having the warlock completely clothed while Alec lay nude on the stark white couch, sticky with strawberry juice from the day's activities. He didn't understand why Magnus made it his personal goal to make Alec come three times a day, every day. He figured he had it mixed up with the normal person's eating schedule, which they _certainly_ did not adhere to because most of their day was usually occupied by the aforementioned activities.

"Oh, well, who am I to deny you your duties, High Warlock?" Alec said playfully. Magnus obliged by sticking another plump strawberry coated in whipped cream into the Shadowhunter's mouth. The diamond ring on his slender finger, a mirror of the one that adorned Alec's, glinted and shined in the crackling light of the fire.

"Bite down, baby, or the neighbors will hear…" Magnus crooned. Alec was thinking, _Hear wha…_ before Magnus' sticky, juicy lips were locked onto one of his taut nipples. He let out a moan around the fruit as Magnus took fast pity, working his way lower.

Alec's teeth crushed into the berry as the warlock's lips closed around the head of his straining cock, grazing ever so slightly before opening wide and shoving him all the way to the back of his throat. Alec's eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned louder.

"Shh, baby. Remember, our neighbors are high class. They aren't used to whorehouse sounds coming from the penthouse next door."

Alec bit off a bite of the berry and let the rest fall away. "Well, if you made it a little less difficult, maybe I would keep my voice down." The playfulness of his words was marred by his breathlessness.

"Or maybe I should just gag you and get it over with," Magnus said. Alec watched with rapt attention as Magnus slid off the couch and stood a foot away from him. He began shedding clothes agonizingly slowly. Alec reveled in each new inch of skin exposed.

When Magnus was finally on equal nude footing with Alec, he made his way back to the couch. He pulled violently on Alec's ankles to slide him down so that he was completely flat on the couch. Then, he proceeded to stand near where Alec's head lay. Alec was puzzled at first, but then he caught on. Magnus had introduced him to the wonders of the 69 position years ago. It had become one of his favorites.

At Alec's come hither stare, Magnus placed a knee on each side of Alec's shoulders, a hand on each side of his hips. He lowered himself down, taking Alec into his mouth as Alec did the same to him. They both groaned in pleasure, causing vibrations that only made the groans deepen. Alec was in heaven.

This position always made it hard for him to hold on to his stamina. Magnus knew this. He was doing it on purpose. As if in answer to his thoughts, he heard Magnus say around his cock, "Go ahead, lover. I want a taste, _now_."

That was all it took. It had only been about 5 minutes, and already Alec was shooting off into the back of Magnus' throat. Magnus moved to get off of him, his cock popping out of Alec's mouth, still shiny and wet with saliva.

"And now, for _my_ favorite position. Get up." Alec complied, knowing exactly what Magnus wanted. He went over to the arm of the immaculate white couch and bent over it, placing his feet shoulder width apart. "That's a good boy," Magnus purred. Again, Alec shivered in anticipation.

Magnus gave Alec a playful, pleasurable slap on the ass before slowly sliding all the way home. Alec let out a long growl at the sensation of being completely filled up by his lover. Magnus wasted no time setting a quick and hard pace. Alec's hips hit the cushiony arm of the couch over and over and over and each time they both cried out in ecstasy.

After they had been together so many years, Alec could tell when Magnus was nearing his peak. His rhythm started to get shaky, and he traded simply grasping Alec's hips for digging his nails into the Shadowhunter's skin. This usually almost made Alec come again, even if he had just gotten his release. This time was no different. He just knew he didn't hardly have any cum left in him anyway.

He could also tell when Magnus was almost there by the way he got steadily quieter, concentrating on his orgasm. When it finally hit, just like always, Magnus screamed his lover's name, and Alec let a shiver reverberate through his body at the sensation of Magnus shooting his hot cum inside him.

Sweaty and spent, they barely made it back onto the couch before they both passed out. Neither was awake to hear the doorbell ring again. It was the middle of the day, and Magnus was supposed to be open for business. But as for now, the High Warlock of Manhattan and Brooklyn and his sexy Nephilim husband were out of commission for the rest of the day. **(Be sure to read tidbits below!)**

**AWWW! How cute, eh? Ardenian gets to see his apprentice go into his position, Magnus gets to take over the job that he was groomed for, Alec gets to be with his lovey dovey warlock *husband!*, and Camille is gone forever! Yay!**

**Just a few little tidbits: Alec does get a glass eye, but not before Magnus got to tease him about being a pirate for a few weeks. Jace joined in too, sometimes. Vanessa and Magnus are still very good friends. She is still in love with him, but it's because of this that she does everything in her power to make him happy. She planned Alec and Magnus' wedding. She even went ring shopping with Alec and they brainstormed on how he would pop the question. They decided on Alec getting down on one knee at the top of the Empire State Building, because at the time Magnus' favorite movie was still Sleepless in Seattle (He cries every time). Magnus cried then, too, before he finally got the word 'yes' out of his mouth. Billy and Alicia house-sat the penthouse while the two went on their honeymoon (for which Billy and Alicia loaned their cabin in the Adirondacks). Simon moved out of his house (because his mother is just too nosey) and now lives in Magnus' old flat in Brooklyn. He has since gotten rid of the furry pink couch. He and Vanessa are good friends these days. They even tried dating, when he and Isabelle were on a break. And all in all, everyone in the greater New York area, and possibly around the world, is happy to have never heard from Camille Minaldi again. **

**Review, peoples! It makes me soo happy! If you favorite and don't review, I get a little sad. I want to know what you thought! Your opinion matters to me!**

**And lastly, I will ask this: Do you want an epilogue? I mean, after 5 years already, that's kinda hard, but I'll do whatever you guys want, cuz I do it all for you anyway. Especially if you've read this far into this A/N…**


	20. New Fic Teaser

**Hey guys! Hope you didn't think this was another chapter...sorry! But hopefully you think its something better! It's a teaser for my upcoming new fic, Body and Soul, which will have the first chapter up sometime before Thanksgiving. Here is a little blurb I posted on my livejournal (come friend me if you haven't! Link on my profile!)**

I've alluded to it a couple times in here I think, but its going to be called Body and Soul. Yes, that's a reference to the subject matter. As per my usual routine, it will be angsty and full of Malec. You know you love it. I'll give you a little tidbit of it that doesn't really ruin the story or anything, but it does give you a general gist of the antagonist:

_"You know what I hate more than anything, though?" Jonathan sneered. "Pure, unadulterated, completely mutual, one hundred percent true _love_." He anunciated each word with enough venom to murder an elephant. Then, he poured the gleaming contents of the vial into the slack jaw of the unconcious boy as the rest looked on in horror._

Jonathan Morgenstern really, really, hates Downworlders. Just thought I should let you know. In this particular story, I think I'm going to change up something from the books again. In this story, NO ONE KNOWS about our beloved Malec. They are good at keeping secrets. But apparently, not good enough.

**Hope you're as excited as I am! Yay! New fic!**

**:P Brooke**


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